


Peace Love War

by csiribee



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Blind Character, Episode: s02e23 Ua Hala (Death In the Family), F/F, F/M, Friendship, Love, M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csiribee/pseuds/csiribee
Summary: Baze Malbus left Jedha. He should have stayed away, or at least explain himself.AU story where Baze now pimps up motorbikes and has an adopted daughter Jyn. Chirrut is a professor protecting the students but inclined for getting in trouble himself. Jyn is the trouble itself. Love, happiness and more to be found.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an AU story, might no similarities to the origin one. I read a lots of fics around I don't really know where the others end and mine begin. If, however, you enjoy twist and turns, gay space dads finding love, and rebel youngsters going against everything, read on. I am writing this because it is a pleasure to think on those guys and ongoing, so I try posting a chapter every week.

Baze is driving too fast. He left the client with Bodhi in the middle of a discussion about the details of his bike. Since he received the call from the University of Jyn that he should present himself immediately at the Dean's office a headache is growing behind his eyes. He should have known that the silence of the past few weeks is only the calm before the storm, Jyn was up to something. 

It seems the big bunch of warnings given by the University for all the anti-Order leaflets, posters and graffities she made last year wasn’t enough. He was never called in so far, but it seems that they are going to begin the second year with a meeting with the Dean. She was never easy to handle but Baze was sure that beside of all the resistance and quarrel with the profs she would like to stay and finish her studies. And now this.

He pics an empty parking before the main building. Jyn is already there shifting weight from one foot to the other. She seems to be scared - and scared she should be - thinks Baze. “What have you done again?” he frowns at her closing the car. “I made a graffiti…” 

“Is that all?”

“...on a very unfortunately chosen place…and prof Fool is...waxy...” - she whispers and bows her head down when Baze lifts his eyebrows. Baze heard Jyn calling that prof in many ungrateful names in the past year and now here is the reward.

“Waxy? So prof Fool is actually the Dean himself? And he’s waxy? That’s wonderful.” He cannot do anything just release a big sigh, he acts like he was angry but he has to admit to himself that he cannot be really angry to this girl. “Well then, show me that office.”

The campus is crowded and loud. Students are strolling on the walkways, sitting under the shadow of the two or three hundred years old magnolia and flame trees learning, talking, laughing or even sleeping. Professors and teachers can be easily distinguished, not only by the age, but because of the smart dresses and moderate gestures. And for all this site the city’s second oldest building complex gives a dignified background in the smooth early-fall sunlight. Behind the walls the ruins of the towers of the Temple of the Whills reach up to the sky making the University feel like a tiny dollhouse.

Jyn doesn’t speak a word while they rush up on the worn out stairs. Baze is happy with that as he tries to prepare himself for every possible outcome that awaits him in the next hour. 

“Oh, Jyn, now you are in trouble...” Baze hears a young man’s voice as Jyn enters before him in the ante-room, “I told you that the odds are…” he’s not finished when Jyn is waving him off. “Keyto, this is my dad.”

“Oh, alright! Welcome sir! The prof is on a call but you can enter to him at the moment he hangs up.” He offers two chairs and sits back silently throwing a worried glance at Jyn which she returns. In that moment the same thought runs through Baze head “now we are in trouble”.

A light goes out on the device on the desk of the assistant and he pushes a button to speak. “Miss Erso’s father has just arrived, professor.” The speaker echoes “Coming!” A few seconds later the door opens in a lilt and a shiny voice sings with a smile “Welcome again in my office, Miss Erso!” The man in the door looks to be around Baze’s age, wearing a black one-button suit with white shirt, lacquer shoes, his dark hair kept short and his skin as golden as the sands in the desert that surrounds the ancient city walls.

He looks touchingly familiar so Baze rises up from the chair to step closer and look in the eye of the man to realize that there is nothing to look in only white, unseeing pupils with a pale blue circle on the edges.

“Chirrut!” a surprised call falls out from him and he feels his headache blows up in his head and sudden emptiness twitches his stomach. The professor of the fool, the doctor of the cowards as Jyn calls his teacher, never to mention his name in the past year, is actually Chirrut Îmwe. Of course. Who else could he be?

“Baze?” comes from the other man partially as a question partially as a statement. Jyn and Keyto are looking on the two of them with question on their faces but Baze cannot care less. He steps closer to the man he hasn’t seen for about twenty years now. Jyn was only semi-right though he has known Chirrut fool, yes, but not a coward.

“It is me, Chirrut...it is me.”

“Yes, indeed.” comes the firm answer after a pause. “But this is not we are here for to discuss today. Are you Miss Erso’s father?” a hesitant face turns in the direction of his voice..

“Yes... No… Err...I am actually her guardian.” 

“Than Mr. Malbus and Miss Erso, please, may both of you come in.” 

The room is cosy despite of the hard wooden furniture. There are no pictures on the wall which is rather covered with shelves full of white books with dotted sleeves, tangible work of arts such as amphores, figurines, reliefs and coins. A computer’s monitor is shining against the window. A comfy looking sofa set covered in black leather takes one half of the room but instead they are offered seats in front of the antique desk. Chirrut rounds the table with the confidence given by the familiar environment.

“Are you aware of the gravity of the issue we are facing because of Miss Erso?” he finds his seat easily, unbuttons his coat with clever fingers and sits down crossing one leg over the other. “Jyn just told me that she made a graffiti...again…” Baze wishes that he could take back the last word as he sees the other man knitting his brows.

“Actually an anti-government mural that I cannot entirely recall… something similar as down with Order puppets... Can you please help me out, Miss Erso?” 

“Out with the coward and fool Order puppets from our University!” flashes Jyn. 

“Not as deep as long. She had to use two sides of the pedestal of the sculpture of the ancient Guardian of the Whills to be able to phrase this work of art...as I was told.” Chirrut turns to Baze dryli.

Jyn is redder than a beet, but she still strikes out. “Professor Îmwe, I didn’t painted that graffiti to attack you personally…” she stops suddenly when Chirrut turns a curious face towards her, but she continues “I mean I accused you of doing nothing against the Order and called you a fool monk...I mean... ugh...behind your back of course...but...but…I mean ...” she feels that she is sinking deeper and deeper in trouble especially when Baze covers his face with his hands and Chirrut raises his brows even higher but she cannot control herself anymore “...I addresse this call to every coward and fool Order puppet who try to strangle the progression at this University!”

Baze, who is hardly recovered from the first shock of meeting Chirrut immediately falls into the next one listening to the foolhardy words of Jyn which make him terrified and proud in the same time. He tries to read the long time non-seen face and rears when Chirrut’s smile outshines the sun as he turns to Jyn.

“Miss Erso, my dear, I am aware that I’m not as important in your life. Which is all right. I would rather say that you chose that statute in particular because it stands in the middle of a little frequented park which in the same time is large enough to cameras not to see through.” Baze breathing stops for a moment remembering sharply to that park known as lover's corner at their times. They used to share kisses there with Chirrut when they were young talking about nonsenses and planning a bright, common future.Then he shakes the memory out of his head. He has to concentrate which seems difficult when he can hardly take his eyes off Chirrut’s gesturing hand and the smile of his perfectly shaped lips. 

“In normal cases we would wash the mural down as soon as possible to keep it away from the eyes of bigger audience especially thinking on the interrogating gaze of the Order. Than close the case with leaving a warning to you asking to change the way of putting across your opinion that you could ignore as you did in the past and would do probably in the future.” Jyn doesn’t say anything just sighs angrily.

“However this is not a normal case. The statue of the Guardian of the Whills, older than the walls of the University, was carved from a stone that absorbed immediately the paint making impossible to just simply wash it down. It has to be rubbed down by adept hands, which will cost of course a fortune.” Chirrut stops for a moment to let his smile faint, continues quietly and puts one forearm on the table. “The University is ready to pay that price to preserve the artifact but now wishes to make an example of it.” 

Jyn inhales loudly than reaches across desperately and Baze meets her halfway to take her hand. “No, you can’t do that Chirrut...I mean professor or doctor or whatever you are now. You cannot kick-out Jyn from the University!” Baze begs Chirrut hoping that the punishment that he deserves won’t fall on Jyn’s head.

“Professor Îmwe, please. I would do anything!” adds Jyn grabbing the side of the table.

“No, no, no!” leans forward Chirrut with reassuring smile. “Nobody speaks of kicking-out nobody from nowhere! There is no point in it, there is no lesson in it.” Baze feels the tension running down from him.

“I asked one of our restorer team that works on the Temple of the Whills to come over. They will be here tomorrow at eight o’clock in the morning. Miss Erso can repair this mistake and reduce the cost of the work - of course if she accepts to do so - by helping to clean the statue which will take about a week or two. For that time I liberate her from all other duties. We just need your signature, Mr. Malbus, that you agree.”

Jyn of course takes the offer and both of them feel the relief. Jyn can’t wait to dash out from the office to share the news with Keyto, Baze rises only slowly. “Chirrut…” he starts but does not know how to continue. Heavy silence falls between them.

“So it is you, then,” Chirrut says in a small voice, barely audible. Baze knows the tone and loathes to hear it. “Chirrut...I…” But before he could continue Keyto pokes his head inside. “Sorry to disturb, professor Îmwe, the rector wishes to see you without delay.”  
Chirrut steps aside from the table buttoning up his coat. “As you can see I have tight agenda today. Mr. So, my assistant, will arrange all the administration.”

“Well, I see you then?” Baze doesn’t know that it was a statement, a question or a hope. Chirrut inhales deeply and closes down his face with a fleeting smile. “Have a splendid end of day, Baze!” 

 

***************

 

Jyn nearly jumps out from her skin by the time they get back to the car. “What was that?” she asks with big gestures and an astonished face. Baze can hardly answer even to himself so he frowns back to gain time to think it over. “This is the question that I should be asking! What the hell was that?” 

“As I said. A call to every coward and fool Order puppet who try to strangle the progression at this University!” she announces as she sits in the car.

Baze slowly turns out from the parking heading home. “If it truly had been the case you would have put the message on the wall of the main building not in a corner that refers clearly to a professor of the culture and the belief of ancient Jedha.”

Jyn just crosses her arm and stares out the window.

“It was nice of him,..” she says at last, poking the bag in her lap. “prof Fool, not being angry with me.”

“Very nice, especially the part not kicking you out.” Baze agrees. “Can I ask what sparked the disaccord this time?”

“His agreement is required to use the territory of the Campus for our peace-march next week to support the City Senate against the Order. He gave his permission but he suggested to chose a clearer objective, like less Order inspection in the matters of the University or the restoration of the cancelled courses related to Jedhan culture.” continues Jyn rolling her eyes. “I got upset and I told him - not in front of the class,” she adds quickly when Baze frowns “that he does not see the big picture and he lives in the past. Instead of supporting dead traditions with the restoration of the Temple or other ancient stuff he should look into the future and do something.”

“That’s what you said?” Baze prompts when Jyn stops talking.

“Yes. I mean do something. Like you who was fighting against the Empire for ten years. Or Bodhi, who left the Order when he realised that they are against everything that is important for him.” She takes a deep breath. “And as my father who sacrificed his freedom for me.”

And most of all you mean your mother, Lyra, thinks Baze, but doesn’t say anything, who sacrificed her life for you. “Probably he answered in a way that didn’t please you.” he says aloud instead.

“He said…” she gives, biting her lower lip. “He said, tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire.” She shakes her head, as if quoting from memory. “It means that the acts of those who came before us still matters. And what matters to us has to be protected...and that is what worth fighting for.”

It was a nice idea, and it was so much Chirrut, Baze thought, but he kept to himself those one as well. As they arrive to the house he parks the car to step out on the lawn before the building.

“You think I made a bad decision,” Jyn says disappointedly when he still doesn’t say anything. Baze just rounds the car and shelters her in his arms. “I think it was right to tell your opinion to him, and I think it wasn’t right to tell your opinion to everybody, particularly in the way you did. It could be hard for professor Îmwe to solve it as he did.” Jyn doesn’t disagree and lets herself be cradled in the hug.

While Jyn starts to look up the fridge to prepare a dinner Baze calls Bodhi to ask if everything was ok with the client that afternoon. The call is more for the details not because of a distrust. A friend from the Rebel Army, Ruescott Melshi recommended him when nobody gave him a job because of his past at the Order. Baze hired him without a question because of Rue and ever since is satisfied with the boy who is very talented in building motorbikes with original ideas.

When he returns to the kitchen to sit by the table Jyn puts a cup of oolong tea in front of him and jumps on the table. Baze likes to see her being so careless as she rocks her leg, glims her phone in the pocket of her jeans and adjusts her T-shirt. He adores the little gesture as she wipes out her shoulder-length brown hair out of her face. 

“Now, it is your turn Baze!” Jyn says with a smile of a conspirator. He folds his hands around the mug and tries to make a puzzled face. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, come on! Don’t pretend that you don’t know! You and prof Fool. What’s the story?” Baze looks into her curious green eyes hesitantly as he has no idea where to start. So he shrugs and jumps right in the middle of his memories.

“He was my only love.” He stops when Jyn makes an irreverent little sound . “What? You think that I never had any love?” he joshes her. “No..., I mean of course you had!” chuckles Jyn. “Just you never mentioned. I never saw you with anyone before...And it's weird...So what happened?”

“What should I say? The usual things. We were young, met at the University, fall in love than the Empire set its foot in the city and nothing was normal again.” He stops to take a sip from the tea. “We fought against the local troops of the Imperial Army with a small resistant group. We called ourselves the Rogue Squad…”

“Wait, you mean you and prof Fool were in the Rogue Squad??!! Holy sh…” she withholds as Baze pulls a long face. “I mean that’s something! Everybody knows legends of them! But how could he… I mean he is...was blind, no?”

“Yes, he is, but he is, or he was, also very good in hand-to hand combat. You know we were just kids like you not well trained soldiers as one I became after. Happy to knock down one or two troopers, throw some grenades and inflict as much as we could.”

“I have to say I’m actually not surprised.” admits Jyn. “I always liked him…”

“Did you?” This day is full of surprises it seems.

“Yeah, I mean he is cool. He treats me as an equal even if we fight and he never stops being curious to understand my opinion on things.” She drops off the table to start to slice the zucchini and other vegetables for the dinner. “And he is bloody hot” she winks back to Baze.” What happened than? You went away to join the Army?” Baze takes out a pan and starts to heat the oil.

“There were nothing left to fight here. The Empire grew stronger and stronger and in Jedha there was no army of our own. When we started the resistance we were about 150 and after a year, by the time they closed the University we were no more than 20, most of us dead or just gave up fighting. Chirrut would stay but I wanted to fight. So I left. Joined the Army of the Republic. Came back. And I’m here. We are here.” And this is the truth, even if only the half of it.

It was nineteen years five months and 8 days ago that Baze left Jedha. He believed in the Force because he was brought up to believe. But to see his friends die and the Empire swallow up more and more from the city made this belief slowly evaporate. Some kind of numbness was emerging deep down in him months before Chirrut was wounded the first time during a raid. It wasn’t anything serious but at that moment the numbness reached Baze’s heart and refused to leave it. He knew that he should have kept an eye and protected Chirrut during the fight.

They had their first real quarrel that night. Baze asked Chirrut whether to stop fighting whether to take the first ship off planet with him and go to the first camp of the Rebellion Army they can find. Chirrut refused both possibility claiming that there is still much to do in Jedha. “The Force protects!” he said. That was the first time in his life when Baze said: “Fuck the Force!” Which scared both Chirrut and himself.

They were less and less to fight with less and less equipment. When finally the Empire closed the gates of the University as the main source of resistance everybody scattered. On top of that troopers started to gather and burn the holy scripts still lying about the Temple and the precious books from the library of the University. 

The handful of people remaining from the squad carried out one last desperate attack to stop the demolition. Chirrut protested, didn’t want to waste energy on that fight, but when Baze went he followed. From the 19 men only 14 could retreat defeated one of them was Chirrut, wounded again. 

Baze felt that they cannot do more for the city, and if he had stayed, he would have endangered the life of his love. He couldn’t bear to see Chirrut die. So he decided to leave and there was no glory in it.

It was a warm summer night with moonbeam and fireflies. Perfect and peaceful as it was before the Empire. They walked hand in hand. Baze whispered nonsenses in Chirrut’s ear and listened to his never-ceasing laughter. Than lead him back to the tiny room they shared, made love with him and pampered him to be sure that he would fall in deep sleep. His only love. At down he inhaled the warm scent of his body, of his hair, he slipped out of the bed, out of the room, out of Chirrut’s life and took the first ship hoping to gain forgiveness once.

“Dad..”. He starts to Jyn’s voice and to the feather light hand on his forearm. He was lost in his own mind probably for minutes and he feels his fists heavy on the counter. “Dad?” repeats Jyn. She calls him dad only in comforting moments - no matter if it is a comfort to her or to Baze. He just takes her tiny hand in his and feels the warmth spreading out in his chest expelling the numbness. 

Jyn doesn’t know that without her he would be lost today. When he came back from the war after the Empire has fallen he was not the man he was before. The war was not as he expected. No heroic fight just destruction. After he put down his uniform there was no motivation just holding on, keeping himself in a present that was at least not death row anymore. But when little Jyn stepped in his life he somehow managed to pull himself together.

“Dad,” calls him Jyn again. “why didn’t you look him up when you came back?”

“I couldn’t. I was not able to.” and after a small pause he admits “I think I was just a coward.”

“Hm.” ponders Jyn. “He, I mean prof Foo...Îmwe didn’t seemed rejective to see you...not literally I mean.” she rolls her eyes. “He was just deeply sad.” Baze lets her hand go with a groan and turns to the half-ready dinner. “You should talk to him.” Jyn insists. “Anyway, you have to take me tomorrow morning. Perhaps he will be there too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dears,   
> As I thought I can update the second chap after a week.   
> Hope you'll enjoy!

It is only eleven o’clock in the morning but Jyn is already bored out of her mind. She just understands why prof Îmwe has chosen this as a punishment for her.

They arrived before eight to the square of the Guardian of the Whills with Baze to find the restorator team already there. Baze sauntered around a bit but it was not prof Îmwe who showed up, as Jyn expected, but one of his younger assistant professor Cassian Andor, to introduce her to the team and to explain her tasks. Baze remembers the name from Jyn’s stories about school life and he thinks that Jyn has a little crush for this guy. From Jyn’s blush he took the conclusion that it was time to leave and join Bodhi to prepare their next job.

The first hour was fun to Jyn. The security rules, the equipment and the process was explained to her than Cassian left them. She put on the protective glasses and the work has begun. Her job is to scrub with a tiny brush. To scrub and scrub and scrub again. And scrub again. 

It. Is. Boring! 

The team works very slowly and carefully. Rub a little, scrub a little, rub a little, scrub a little with full focus. “Hey, come on! It is just the pedestal not the statue!” she utters it aloud but she only receives icy looks so she shuts her mouth and continues to scrub.They have been working for two hours now and they haven’t even finished one half ot the first letter. That would take an eternity, but this thought Jyn keeps for herself.

During a pause of the emery-machine the voice of prof Îmwe hits her ear out of nowhere. “This is, gentlemen, the venue of the vandal act.” he explains as he walks closer to the statue sweeping his staff in front of him accompanied by two men in the grey uniform of the First Order. Jyn’s blood freezes in her veins but her companions start to move quickly hiding her behind their back. 

“As you can see our restorator team already started to refit this valuable artifact.” continues prof Îmwe, stopping.

“Why not simply wash it?” barks one of the soldiers. Chirrut makes a face of a professor who was just asked about his favorite subject and gestures like he was in front of a class. “Oh, it is impossible to just wash it down. You probably aware of, better than me, my friend, that this precious work, older than the University itself, one of the intact sculpture of the Temple of the Whills was carved from a stone…” 

“We are not here for a history lesson, doctor.” Chirrut’s flying hands fell down when the same man interrupts him and . He seems to be the outrank from the two of them. “Just name the one who put this filthy message on that monstrosity and we let you back to your duties.”

Jyn feels that somebody grabs her arm to hide her even more. She swallows hard as Chirrut’s face turns into regret. “Unfortunately the offender is not known, my friend.”

“I am not your friend, Îmwe, so do not play with me!” The soldier steps closer with a menacing face, but when he realises that the other cannot see it he just leans as close that Chirrut has to take a step back bumping in the other soldier left behind him. “Don’t tell me that security cameras didn’t record anything.”

“Believe me, my friend,..” Chirrut straightens himself and looks more regretful than before “that we are also terribly upset but cameras cannot see through the park and nobody reported to meet any suspicious person.”

“This must have been one of the students. Somebody should have seen something. You know that we can close down the whole piggery here and interrogate everybody?” comes the malevolent question. Jyn’s head snatches up ready to jump out shouting No, you can’t do that! but one of the restorators squeezes her shoulder and stops her with a flash of the eye.

Chirrut tilts his head towards them as if he knew Jyn’s feelings but in a moment he rises his pale blue eyes to the sky. “I understand your concerns, of course and as the Dean of the history faculty I can assure you to give every support you need to conduct this investigation in this serious matter. I am sure we can liberate an office for you for the upcoming months.”

“What for?” asks the soldier in confusion.

“We have more than a twelve-thousand students. I am afraid this investigation would consume a longer period of time.” The way that a worried expression spreads out on Chirrut’s face induces loud laughter among the restorator team and Jyn laughs too with unease. The second soldier huffs out raising a hand to grab Chirrut. “How dare you...mocking on us…!” but the other one stops him with a gesture so he retreats displeased.

“Doctor Îmwe, this time we may pass by this impudence. At the same time...”   
He continues with a malicious grin and a syrupy voice “...this unfortunate issue highlights that the protection of the University needs reinforcement.” He seems to be pleased to notice a flinch on Chirrut’s face. “I will personally take care to redirect here two more squad of troopers. In order to preserve security of course.” His tone changes in an instant to authoritative. “Make sure that this unworthy message disappears quickly.”

“This is my only wish as well.” nods Chirrut without a smile.

“Long live to the Empire!” calls out the same soldier.

“I wish you equally a pleasant day!” answers Chirrut firmly.

“I said” repeats the man stepping closer to make Chirrut step back again. “Long live to the Empire!” After a pause Chirrut tilts his head towards him. “I am blind not deaf.” He steps towards the statue and turns his face up to the Guardian casting a shadow on them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you have heard the wish of our guests which you probably share as much as I do. Please refit the statue as soon as it is possible. Thank you for your efforts in advance.” He returns toward the two men of the Order. “Gentlemen, I am sure that you find your way out better alone that with my lead. May the Force be with you!” 

After the steps of the two men dies away he raises an encouraging smile a little to the right side of Jyn, takes two step forward then a sharp turn and he disappears in the direction of the main building.

“You are lucky that doc Îmwe is not a jittery type of a guy.” says the leader of the team. A big man who doesn’t seem to be Jedhan. “That’s true.” affirms Jyn and she adds. “My dad told me that they were together in the Rogue Squad at the time.”

“Is that true?” comes the question with surprised sighs and she feels the weight of attention on her. Jyn is not sure why she had told it. Rumour will spread quickly. Perhaps that’s what she wanted.   
“How?”  
“When?”  
“How many troopers did they get?” questions are overrunning her, but she cannot answer even to one as Cassian appears with quick steps.

“Is everything ok? I heard that some Order scums were spying here.”

“Yes, it’s ok. They are already gone.” answers Jyn a bit shaky but she cannot decide if because of all that happened or because of the presence of Cassian. 

“Don’t worry we are going to protect you.” he puts his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. He is always reassuring. Tall and and easy looking, perhaps a little bit thinny, with warm brown eyes under his hair which is rampant enough to fall on his brow. He doesn’t dress as smartly as other teachers, shirt yes, but instead of a suit he usually wears a light jacket.

Jyn considers for a moment what had just happened. “I think I brought bigger trouble than I thought. Now they will send more troopers here and they are already too many.”

“Hm, they would have done it sooner or later. They just needed an excuse, if not this, they would have found an other.”

“Yeah, I guess. But this time it was this.” Her voice is angry. 

“Actually, I come to ask if you heared that all the faculties will be represented on the peace-march next week?” Cassian tries to find a more cheerful subject. She feels her face turn hot as he steps closer and she can only hope that Cassian considers it as a sign of her joy.

“Oh really? Yesterday extra-planet biology and space sciences were missing from the list.” she wonders.

“Perhaps. This morning I had a chat with some students from their faculty and they confirmed that they will be there.” Jyn heart beats stronger from the warm smile of Cassian. 

“Oh, that’s great. The whole University will stand with us! I hope some profs and teachers will come as well!” She practically glows with happiness.

“Well, you can surely count on some of us!” smiles Cassian and Jyn legs start to melt away. The flood of feelings makes her confused. “It is time for a break. Come, let’s eat something!” he suggests offering his arm and Jyn shyly clings to it. 

 

******************************

Chirrut is tired. He didn’t have any classes that day but he was busy. He spent the morning with the First Order soldiers and he has to admit that it was very unpleasant. For a moment he was thought he might lose control of the situation but it ended up without trouble apart from the promise of the extra troopers. But he can deal with that better than put in trouble any of the kids. Force protects. 

At noon he had lunch with the rector, director Krennic, explaining why is it a privilege to let the youth exercise the freedom of speech within a secure environment like the walls of the University instead of kicking out everybody who is playing with their patience. He had the feeling Krennic wasn’t convinced but as there were too many people around he just dropped the subject. It would be suspicious if a rector would pay much attention to a student or a graffiti. The rumor has Krennic is close to the Order and either true or not one thing is sure he’s not a fool to give himself away so easily. Force protects.

After lunch he was occupied with meetings, arrangements and all kind of chats, serious and airy. He was planning to go to the Temple to see how the restoration progresses although he already knew the answer. Slowly. The answer is: slowly. In the last year they couldn’t pass through the great entrance hall as they are still struggling with fixing the supports to avoid the whole Temple falling on their heads. Everything is as the Force wills it.

He was planning to go there but now he changed his mind. He knows that he is not tired of all the things he has done during the day. He is busy every day but usually doesn’t mind. He is tired because of Baze Malbus. Since he heard his voice the day before he hardly recognise himself. He just doesn’t know, he cannot identify the feeling that burns him. And he hates not to know. 

After Baze was gone long time ago - he was never able to say, not even to himself, that Baze left him - he was praying to the Force for years to bring Baze back to him. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. He was praying to the Force for years to bring back Baze home to Jedha at least. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. One morning he found that praying for Baze to return is painful. Praying to the Force to bring him back meant that he was not there. The loss was an ache he wanted to carry no more. Baze was in his heart, will be always in his heart and that how it is. It will never change. Chirrut has always lived in sensation, always having others close in friendship or more but it was impossible to keep on with that loss. The pain he had to let go to be able to live. 

It took him some more years to do that. Not to have his heart beating stronger when heavy footsteps approached him, not to allow hope rising in his chest when somebody rang the bell on the front door, not to lift his head when a shuttle arrived loudly above the city, not to long for the familiar touch in the moments of passion. 

It all collapsed yesterday when he heard Baze voice, his growls, the rhythm of his breading and he felt the scent of his skin. He returned. He came home to Jedha. He didn’t came back to Chirrut. He doesn’t know, he just cannot identify the feeling that burns him. And he hates not to know. He is tired. 

Perhaps, he isn’t sure, it’s fatigue that gives him the strange idea in the whole afternoon that he receives extra attention. He accustomed to people move away as his cane appears, he receives looks and whispers behind his back, but also students greet him with smile in their voices, stop him freely to have a chat or ask any question wherever he goes, he is used to it. But today this is somehow different. There is awe and distance in it and it is overwhelming as if it he was untouchable. 

He can’t wait to reach his office and when he steps through the doorstep he just says “Good afternoon, Mr. So.” and springs in, closes the door and sinks into the couch. Finally. I am on with the Force and the Force is with me. There is a small tap on the door and he hears Keyto’s lanky figure trying to approach silently but his gawky steps make it impossible. A clinking reaches his ears and the warm smell of herbs and orange hit his nose. “Doctor Îmwe, I made your favorite tea, I put it on the table.” he notices a constraint in Keyto’s voice. I am getting paranoid, he thinks in the privacy of his head. “Thank you, Mr. So. You spoil me.” he says aloud with a smile.

“I put some biscuit next to it as well, sir. Or if you are hungry I could make deliver some sandwiches from the canteen.” Chirrut cannot recall any time when Keyto was worried if he was hungry but he keeps smiling. “That is very kind of you but I’m good with tea.”

“I have to inform you sir, that all of your classes got full.” continues Keyto in his prissy voice. “Some of them are even oversubscribed. We had to turn down some of the students.”

“What do you mean when you say that they are full?” sits up Chirrut from his comfortable position in disbelief. Every semester he has one or two classes full but never all of them in the same time. 

“Your course History of the Galaxy I. was moved to the biggest auditory. So every tuesday morning you should go to the F building from now on. Don’t worry I will remind you, as always.” 

Now that is too much. What is going on? “Mr. So, can you please explain me what is happening? Do I miss something?” he asks with a puzzled face. 

“What do you mean, sir?” asks back Keyto in anguish.

“History of the Galaxy I. is obligatory only for the first grade of the history faculty. As far as I know they aren’t as many to fill the biggest auditorium. In the same time I don’t think that history magically became as popular to attract as many students unless they believe that I will give dating advice, which I obviously won’t. So tell me what is going on!” He feels that he could even touch Keyto’s hesitation. “Mr. So...?” he prompts him.

“Were you really the member of the famous rebellion group, the Rogue Squad?” falters out finally Keyto. Chirrut holds his breath for a moment. He expected to hear some gossip about earning extra credits for attending history class or some other foolish hoax that spreads every year among students, but not this. It takes some moment to put the picture together. Baze should have told to Jyn and she probably told to everyone. Now he understands. He still considers how to reply.

“Yes, I was one of the Rogue Squad.” he chooses the simplest way. “It was a long time ago.” adds quietly.

“Sir, you took part in the war against the Empire. You are a hero!” steps closer Keyto but Chirrut waves him down. “I am not a hero. There should have been done so many and I did so little.”

“I think you did what you can, didn’t you, sir.” but there is no answer to that statement. Keyto clears his throat. “By the way the rector wishes to see you.”

“Again? I am so lucky today.” sinks back Chirrut into the couch with a biscuit. 

“He asks you to bring all the information about the preparations of the fundraising gala, sir.”

“Oh, then it would be a long meeting.” words are lost in the chewing.

“Thirty minutes count as long meeting?”

“Beg your pardon?” Keyto is always a mystery. 

“In sixty-four percent of the cases you spend less than thirty minutes in his office.” 

Thanks to the Force, there is hope, thinks Chirrut. “And the rest of the cases?” 

“Twelve percent of the cases you spend less than fifteen minutes and the remaining twenty-four percent no more than five minutes.” Keyto seems to be proud to his analysis.

“That is wonderful.” pops Chirrut his arms in the air. “Please hand me my laptop, Mr. So, I should bring every info with me, than.”

On the way to the other building he let’s his routine to work to find the road and wonders why he feels uncomfortable with Krennic. He doesn’t even know how he looks like, he never mapped his face and even his fingertips are protesting to ask for it. Krennic is slightly taller than him, has a voice of a man of authority with a cold and wet handshake. The others say that he is not especially handsome but keeps himself well. He doesn’t feel anything around him. Or to be more precise he senses that everything around him is devoured by the emptiness in his centrum and sometimes this emptiness has sharp edges. Now he is heading towards this nothingness. He has to center himself. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

“Chirrut!” greets him Krennic after his secretery let him in. 

“Orson! Thank you for having me twice today!”

“Write this on the count of your merits.” comes closer Krennic to shake his hand. “Come, sit down! Will you find the sofa?” Chirrut puts his most charming smile he keeps for men and walks confidently towards the mentioned sofa three steps forward a little bit on the right hoping it wasn’t moved since the last time. “What do you drink?” lifts Krennic a glass.

“Water would be nice.” chirps Chirrut.

“Oh, come on, I serve you something more serious. I have good news to announce.” ice clanks and a liquid pours.

“Good news? I adore good news.” Chirrut sits down, folds his cane and places the laptop on the table to take the glass that he finds after the sound of the gently clicking ice cubes. He sniffs in it. It’s malt. 

“I am sure that you’ll love this one.” he notices that Krennic sound comes from above. He remained standing.”I arranged an audience for you with the City Senate to place your annual application for the financial support of the Temple's restoration.” 

“Oh, wonderful!” Chirrut doesn't have to play this time, he glows in the positive surprise. “When can I stand before the Senate?”

“In two weeks, on Friday.” says Krennic drinking a sip of his malt.

“In two weeks?” Chirrut became slightly despairing. “It takes place usually after the fundraising gala. Ugh, in two weeks... I have to prepare myself quickly.”

“I thought that you are always prepared for all eventualities.” Krennic glances a smile towards Chirrut, but he can only senses sharp edges. 

“Not for all, but I do as the Force guides me.” he places the untouched malt on the table and flips open his laptop.

“I hope this Force of you won’t let you down one day, Chirrut!”

“It never does, Orson, it never does.” he hears the the computer turns on so he lights up his smile again. “I was informed that you also would like to hear about the arrangements of the fundraising gala for the Temple.”

“I would but I’m afraid I have other unexpected obligations. So I set you free.” announces Krennic as he steps closer and Chirrut finds himself out of his office fast. It didn’t took five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls leave Kudos if you like it.  
> And share your comment - I am curious all little detalis you noticed. :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand the next chap is here. Enjoy! :-)

Baze is tapping his phone to text to Jyn if she needs a ride. He’s just finished to check a chopper for sale nearby the University. It will be a good one to build another two but he doesn’t decided yet. He is heading back to his pickup truck parked where he could, a little bit higher on the street.

He learned what to wear when he meets with clients. Further back he wore just a military pocketed trouser with biker T-shirt but he noticed that he wasn’t taken seriously. Jyn teached him that with brown boots he has to wear brown belt, and with black boots black belt with his jeans. In winter time he would wear a leather jacket on top of his black shirt, but at this time of the year, early-fall sunshine he just rolls up his sleeves letting his forearm tattoos to be seen. To make his appearance more neat he holds his hair together with a bun. He is thick with muscle in clothes tight enough to show off his size and that does the rest of the job.

He is not prepared for rain and it seems that one of the rare storms of Jedha will hit soon. The thick clouds on the sky cover the streets and buildings with black shadow. The air feels heavy with the smell of rain. Lightning and thunder flash through the sky already. He speeds up his steps as big drops starts to fall. A message comes from Jyn, so he opens the phone to check it.

“Sorry.” he calls out catching the man he almost toppled down from his feet turning on the corner. Something hits his leg. A cane. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here, Chirrut?” In the last years they didn’t cross path even from distance but now they met twice in a week. He feels a twitch in every inch of his body.

“I was trying to find a place to wait out the storm when somebody pushed me over.” chafes Chirrut grimly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming.”

“I didn’t see you either. You can let my arm go, I do not like to be manhandled.” retorts Chirrut. He barely finishes the sentence when a downpour hits the street as if someone had opened a shower on their heads. 

“Come!” Baze makes a quick decision and pulls Chirrut with him in the café two steps back at the corner. As they arrive under the roof Chirrut manages to tear his arm out from his grip. “I told you that I do not like to be manhandled!” he announces more firmly. Than he looks away and an unexpected smile unfolds on his face. 

“Prof Îmwe! I hope you didn’t get too wet!” a young girl steps in front of them.

“Hello there!” greats her Chirrut with a questioning face.

“It’s Rodma, from the third grade, politics fac.” she replays gently pushing Chirrut and Baze further inside. “Come, we’ll find a nice table and some towel for you and your friend.” Baze wonders how she will manage that. The café could have been crowded before the storm fell but now it is chock-full. All the seats are taken by young adults sitting even on the table and standing in every possible spot.

“Hey guys, get up there, prof Îmwe is here!” In a moment they are in the circle of students greeting Chirrut, shaking his hand, tapping his shoulder and he chats, banters and laughs with them glowing. It seems for Baze that he doesn’t like to be manhandled only by him. He cannot wonder much about that because in the next instant they find themselves pushed down to a table with their orders quickly taken and paper towels in their hands. They sit parallel to each other facing inside of the cafe. Baze is glad that the table is in the corner and he is able to monitor the whole place and the entrance. He still couldn’t shake off old routines he took up in the army.

The kids find their ways back to their own company when the orders arrive, a turmeric herbal tea for Chirrut and a spiced black tea for Baze. Chirrut smile fades away and silence fall between them.

“The storm is going to last till an hour at least. You don’t have to sit all that time with me.” says Chirrut quietly holding his stick with both hand in front of him like a shield. He’s got as wet as Baze. His hair glints and dark spots outlines the shoulder of his chalk red suit jacket. Baze feels his own pants sticking to his leg and he tries hard not imagine how Chirrut’s trousers can outline his tight. He takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t meant – it wasn’t supposed to happen this way...” manages Baze finally to speak in a rush.

“No, I believe not.”

“I didn’t want you to find out like this that I came back.” Baze toils with the words, because of the disbelief in Chirrut’s tone. “I didn’t want to stir up your life. I just didn’t…” but Chirrut cuts him off abruptly tilting his head towards him. “When exactly did you come back?” Baze’s jaw tightens hearing that question. “Eight years ago.” 

Chirrut turns his head away. There is a long pause again and finally a sigh that makes Baze’s heart ache.

“Baze, you don’t owe me any apology. You left, and I have made my peace with what happened…”

“Made your peace, my ass!” It is now Baze’s turn to cut him off. “You hardly want even to talk with me!” Chirrut inhales sharply, and Baze’s muscles tense. He wants Chirrut to blame him, curse him, ask for explanation, make a scene or punch him. To absolve him. Chirrut just shakes his head. “Drink your tea, Baze, before it gets cold.” He doesn’t dare to oppose.

The distance between them is growing as the storm gets stronger outside. The young students don’t seem to bother by the heavy sound of the rain but Baze feels that somehow he has to relive the tension.

“It was nice that you didn’t took it on you what Jyn has done on the other day.” he starts but then he stops, unsure what to say. It was nice seems insufficient. 

“Miss Erso is a brilliant young lady, who now just tries to stretch her boundaries. It wasn’t more than a mischief.” he seems to open up a little bit. A soft smile appears around his lips as he leans back on the chair letting his cane fall on his shoulder.

Baze tries to take advantage of this opportunity. “You could have turn her up, but you did not. Thank you.” he mumbles the words, knowing that he will be grateful for all his life.

“I do as the Force guides me,” Chirrut replies which extorts a dissatisfied noise from Baze. “The Force, Chirrut? This would be the first time that the Force has done something for somebody.” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but it’s too late. What am I doing, he curses himself watching Chirrut’s face close down totally and irrevocably. He should apologise, explain himself, ask for forgiveness, for understanding… Instead he just destroyed the only bridge which could have led to Chirrut that day.

The rain fades only a good half an hour later leaving cool air behind. The people trapped in the café starts to feather one after the other.

“Let me invite you for your tea at least.” Baze prays Chirrut as a last poor attempt to make up for his words and more.

“No need.” The chair scrapes the floor as Chirrut stands up. “You left, Baze, and I have made my peace with that. Long time ago. You… We don’t owe each other anything.” He taps two fingers reflexively on the table as if there is something left to say. Instead he walks with sure steps to the counter to pay and doesn’t say goodbye when he leaves.

 

**********************************

The first cool wind moves the branches of the trees and blows up the girl’s hair when the peace-march ends up in the Old Yard of the University five days later. The square is packed with students, teachers, all kind of workers from the Campus and passers-by who are curious to see what is happening. The huge stairs of the Great Library dominates the square, guarded by two statue on each side depicting two mon calamaris as the symbol that wisdom has to be used. 

This is where Jyn climbs up with satisfaction followed by the other leaders of the peace-march, Davits and Garven, two boys from the engineers and Zal, a girl from the physics department to hold their speeches. This is a calm and cheerful demonstration, with low-keyed signs rising above the crowd like “The Senate Matters!”, “The Force is the Senate!” and “Jedha is ours!”. There are chatting friends and kissing couples. At the center a boy is playing a guitar, students knot together singing songs about freedom. Activists are passing around taking names of volunteers and giving informations. 

Jyn turns to take a look over the crowd. The effect is like on a concert, brightly shining eyes, smiley faces full of optimism. However the square feels closed-in from the top of the stairs, even the narrow passages between the buildings are blocked by people. She can see a few Order troopers stationed around, but they are unarmed and staying out of the way talking with each other. From here she can see a few teacher and professor mingled here and there. Cassian close, in the front row, as he promised. His head is bent together with prof Îmwe explaining something into his ear. Both are wearing the uniform of the University, grey suite with an embroidered red starbird covering the pocket on their chest.

“Demonstrations fits right to the colour of your eyes, Jyn.” winks on her Cassian as she approaches him.

“You think I should set up more of them?” laughs back Jyn, brushing out a lock of hair from her face and stops in front of the man.

Cassian grabs her hands encouragingly. “I can safely say you already stirred up everything quite enough.” Jyn could stand forever like this, folding their hands together, but the crowd seems to be impatient.

“Just wait!” smiles Jyn squeezing back once more then she returns quickly on the top and grabs the megaphone to start to speak. When she turns it on a sharp, grating sound is heard which make everybody on the square turn they heads towards her.

“Welcome on the peace-march to support the Senate of the city!” loud applause follows her words. “Thank you all for coming here today! It’s a small victory to have so many people with us.” Her voice rings out, distorted by the megaphone with a little bit of an echo. The crowd is already cheering her words. She doesn’t raise her voice or use angry tone, just some stirring fraise: “the Senate is our choice, common interest, future of the city”. Her words are followed by more applause and soulful shouts. When she finishes she hands the megaphone to Davits who is prepared to a harsher talk.

Jyn stands apart and waves down to Cassian who waves back and claps his hands. He says something to prof Îmwe who flashes a smile and keeps his thumb up to Jyn. She looks so proud in her jeans, roll neck jumper and jacket she wears to be activiste-like. The march seems to be un absolute success, she thinks, as a sudden roar of applause jolts her. 

She barely notices the squad car that is just stopped at the other side of the square. The lights are on and both officers get down and leans on the car. Nobody pays any attention to them and there isn’t space to pass through, even if they want to. 

Davits now speaks against the Order influence in Jedha and he receives a strong reaction from the crowd when he keeps a pause. Some enthusiastic clapping...and more shouting and raising voices. Sentiments against the Order are more hostile than Jyn had thought. At the foot of the stairs Cassian scans anxiously the crowd. Prof Îmwe leans close to his ears one hand on his shoulder as he tries to make himself understood over the rumble and they share something that Jyn cannot hear. 

At the moment when Davits catches up his words again she spots a water-cannon at the lower edge of the square hiding at the cover of the building of the Kaminoan Research Lab. She runs down to Cassian agitated. “What is it?” he shouts. He cannot see much from his post but he feels the tension rising high in the square. “Do you see something?” 

“There is a water-cannon down there.” shouts Jyn to overspeak the crowd. 

“Don’t worry!” Cassian holds her arm looking back over his shoulder. “Civilians are everywhere. They won’t do any harm to us.”

Jyn considers the reassuring words of Cassian and finds them not enough to calm her. She climbs back on the stairs to see that there is a growing number of troopers on the square and people start to notice them with anger. Baze made her swear to call him if she sees anything go off. This is the best moment to do it, she decides, if not already too late. She grabs her phone and rings the number. Baze picks it up in a second. “Hello Jyn. Is everything alright?” concern is in his question.

Jyn covers her other ear with her free hand. “Errr...not really… DAD, there is a water-cannon and a squad car on the square.” 

“Get out of there immediately!” orders Baze in panic and she can hear that he is already moving. 

“Oh, I can’t. We are on the stairs of the library at the Old Yard… you know the first big square at the main entrance. The crowd is at our feet and the library’s gates are closed today due to our demonstration.” Jyn voice turns to thin. “What should I do?”

“Power to the Senate!” a strong voice arise from the depths of the crowd and Jyn notices with eyes wide open that a squad of riot troopers are pushing in and glass shatters overhead. Someone threw a glass bottle against the shield of the troopers and everyone ducks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some violent scenes are coming - mostly fray. But no worry, no one gets hurt.

“Bodhi, get on your bike! This peace-march of Jyn seems to turn into a nightmare!” Baze shouts to Bodhi over his shoulder as he rushes out from the garage. He knows that he will follow without a question. He jumps on his motor and catches from the corner of his eyes that Bodhi shuts the rusty door with a metallic snap and runs towards his motorcycle as well. He started the morning with a promise of a calm day. Fumbling in the garage, figuring out new ideas, chatting with Bodhi about the bikes they have to build. Ha was a little worried about the piece-march but how much trouble can Jyn get in at the University...Right?

He curses himself. He should have known. This is Jyn after all! The bike is faster than his truck. And speed is what he needs now. He gives gas and fetches headway immediately as fast as he can. The University is twenty minutes away but he wants to make it in five with dangerous zigzags between cars in high gear with Bodhi catching up behind him. As he didn’t bothered to pull his jacket the wind cuts sharp in his skin, snaps his T-shirt and runs through his hair. He just gives more gas.

As they reach the main gate of the Campus in a few minutes that seemed a year to Baze they are immediately jumping down from the bikes. The entrance is full of people, there are priers arriving and others fleeing. It’s already hard to get through them. “There are troopers pushing in down there!” leans closer Bodhi pointing at the lower end of the street, probably another entrance. Baze is happy to have Bodhi with him. He and his military past is a big help now.

More troopers doesn’t mean any good. They fighting their path inside to hear the crowd chanting as one “Power to the Senate! Power to the Senate!” fists in the air. Baze spots out in no time the squad car and water-cannon that Jyn mentioned on the phone and many groups of troopers in riot gear. That is worth than he has thought. 

“We have to get to the other side to the library! You see?” Baze grabs Bodhi’s arm. “Ok, boss. I’ll follow you!” That is all he says and that is enough to Baze. He elbows his way out pushing anyone who tries to pull him away, an easy enough task given his height and brawny frame.

He doesn’t see nearly enough but what he sees is too much. There is already two circle of riot troopers in front of the stairs of the library. About twenty of them are facing the crowd trying to roll them back and others are encroaching swiftly from all corners. What is more concerning there is a second group rounding the stairs cutting the way and confining some kids stuck up in front of the library’s gate.

Jyn is standing almost still high above the sea of people clinging on the arm of a young man. As Baze gets closer he can identify the assistant professor Cassian Andor. Jyn’s terrified face bursts hot rage inside him and he continues the way with even greater vigor feeling Bodhi’s hand grabbing his T-shirt to keep up. 

The ring of riot shield isn’t closed yet, he still can see an exit. It seems he is not the only one to notice it. A thin but firm figure slips inside to stand on the bottom of the stairs between the troopers and the kids with a cane held in front of him almost protectively. It’s Chirrut! A growl rises in his throat. Just a few more steps.

“Power to the Senate! Power to the Senate!” the shouting is almost deafening but he is able to take out a few words that Chirrut says to the soldiers: “event with permission, territory of the Campus, freedom of speech.” Baze finally pushes themselves against the riot shields facing to the crowd when a trooper’s sound rises up from the front. “And who the hell are you?” 

“I am doctor Chirrut Îmwe, the Dean of the history faculty.” comes the answer. The troopers rise their shield and make one step forward all at once to the command announced in the com unit in their helmets. The soldier facing Chirrut pushes his shield on the ground right in front of his foot and Chirrut steps back and up two stairs.

Baze takes Bodhi’s shoulder and leans close to him, willing him to listen. “I will make a gap. You get in, make your way out with Jyn and drive home.”

Bodhi’s eyes open wide. “And what about you?” he asks. 

“I’ll be fine. Just take Jyn out!” says Baze in low voice. Honestly he doesn’t give a fuck about himself right now, if Bodhi can get Jyn safely home, and he will he is sure, that’s good enough for him

“Boss, yes boss.” comes the affirmation as Bodhi agrees. Baze lets out a breath and turns around. The circle tightens around Jyn, Cassian, Chirrut and the other kids whom Baze doesn’t give a damn. The library gates are shut down, the two sides of the stairs are closed by the terrifying statues of mon calamaris, the troopers wall in the front. No way out.

“There is no need for violence!” Chirrut calm voice lifts up to the sky. “These are just unarmed kids. Let them pass! “ Baze can see that his knuckles are white on the cane. “Let them pass in peace!” Baze recognises the tone. The troopers make another step forward and the same shield thrusts in the ground again right before Chirrut’s shoes. This time he just tilts his head but he doesn’t step back. He is ready to fight, thinks Baze. The fool!

Baze can almost feel the change as the tension in the crowd increases before a heavy stone followed by some more smashes into the wall of troopers and Baze closes his eyes as a few of them rebound. The pressure reaches its peak as suddenly the crowd starts to move, pressing, fighting with troopers, butting up against their riot shields. This is the moment! Baze measures a massive kick in the shield of the riot before him. Bodhi shoves forward elbowing the trooper on the right and people around floods over the rest of them. It is enough to get closer to the inner circle which gets in action in the same time as Baze reaches them.

He grabs the closest shoulder he can and yanks the trooper off the ground. Bodhi, quick as flash, jumps on the shield takes-off again to land on the stairs before Jyn. 

Slightly relieved Baze takes a moment to capture the situation. A soldier grabs Chirrut’s staff with one hand, trying to tear it away and with the same tug pulling him against the shield he holds in the other hand. But he underestimates Chirrut. Chirrut knocks his hand away with a chop coming down on his forearm than lets his own heavy fist connect with the man’s chest, pushing him back. Stunning but he had started out of a bad position. 

“Chirrut, on your left!” cries out Baze as another trooper reaches out for him from behind. He lifts his head in confusion than, as easy as the wind blows, he leans away and kicks the other man’s knee to drop him on the ground. A couple of people around them are already pinned down by shields and force.

On the top of the stairs Cassian is grappling with a man but Baze cannot pay much attention as in the same moment two troopers lunges for him. With a wordless growl, he throws himself on the closest and when he opens his shield to strike Baze lands his foot in his stomach. As he falls he drafts an other one with him. The practiced movements come to Baze like instinct. As he swings and lands his fist in the next trooper’s face he realises that this is still so good, fighting, better than it should be, better than he wishes it to be. His whole body craves for the battle and his senses sharpen.

He catches sight Bodhi ducking from a strike pulling Jyn with him. As he straightens up he shoves sideways to a soldier than holding Jyn tight to his body lets themselves be gorged and hidden by the cloud of people showering on the Order’s soldiers. Cassian is right behind them. He elbows out to the left and lands a decent blow to one of the trooper’s face. He jumps in the air as a well trained fighter, lashes out with both feet and catches his attacker hard in his chest throwing him back. Using the space frayed out to his advantage he pushes the other youngsters in the crowd. He turns to run back up the stairs but people around him grabbles and scuffles so wildly that he is jostled back unable to push himself up again.

There is someone awkwardly kicking at Baze but he feels no pain, only the blood rushing in his ears. He notices the overpower but still blocks a strike of a baton with his underarm that makes him stumble, troopers are wrestling him to the ground and shoving his face into the dust. Knees are pressing in his back and he goes still.

On the corner of his eyes he can see that Chirrut is still standing somehow and resists with fluid moves although his cane is long time dropped and forgotten. But not for long. A truncheon punches into his ribs unforgivingly and Chirrut falls to hands and knees to gag for breathe. In a split second he is pressed down to the stairs and stern hands makes sure that he stays down. 

Baze is dragged to his feet, arms wrenched behind his back and wrists bonded together with plastic ties. He goes without a fight. Jyn is safe. He can bear everything. The troopers yank him through people to load him into the back of an armored vehicle and Chirrut into another. 

*******************************

The driver and the other guard don’t speak at all and Baze doesn’t wish to share anything except swears. He can see from the rear window that the other jeep with Chirrut inside is right behind them. The road takes about thirty minutes and they arrive to one of the First Order’s patrol in the other side of the city. With his hands cuffed behind his back there is no use to resist so he just follows as the troopers drag him inside the building. They liberate him from all his personal objects, belt and laces and show him one of the two cells after cutting down the plastic that bonded his hands.

Chirrut is not so lucky. His guards make an amusement of his blindness tugging him to and fro and shoving him against obstacles. A truncheon signs to Baze to move back as they open the cell’s door, cut Chirrut’s bond and thrust him roughly inside. Chirrut almost lapses but finds his balance at the last moment in the middle of the cell. Baze can’t help himself as adrenalin still rushes in his veins, jumps forward to shake the grilles belching out curses.

The troopers laugh on him from distance but leave after they had enough. In a moment one of them returns. “Each of you can make one phone call. Just one, whether someone answers or not.” Baze’s head clears out in a second but his rage rise again quickly and he puts a hard kick in the grills. “I don’t know any phone number! They are all in my phone you took me away, you scum!” he shouts out on the guard grinning viciously. 

Baze takes a deep breath and turns to Chirrut. “Do you remember any phone number? Can you make a call?” Chirrut turns his ears towards him but he seems to be quite lost as he stands still in the middle with clenched hands and teeth. Baze slows his breath and smoothes his voice as much as he can. “Two steps on your right there is a wall with a bench before it.” he says stepping closer. Chirrut obeys to the untold order finds the wall with his outreached hand, bumps into the bench and sits. 

Baze crouches in front of him and speaks very softly. “We can make one phone call, but all the numbers are in my cellphone like probably yours.” Chirrut turns his face in his direction. “Is there any phone number in your head?” asks Baze with a faint hope. 

Chirrut raises his eyebrows and starts to search in his pockets with quick, jerky movements. “Hmmmm… if we are lucky I have a card in one of my pocket with the number of my office. Perhaps Mr. So got back by the time.” he dives into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and triumphantly rises a card escaped from the frisk. “Here it is!” Baze glances at the tiny paper printed both with ink and braille script and turns to the guard with a grin that looks more like a snarl. “He can make a call!”

The guard guides Chirrut away to the phone but when he returns Baze understands quickly that he didn’t succeed. “Nobody answered.” Confirms Chirrut what Baze already knew.

“Your turn.” says the guard bordley as Chirrut sits down leaning his back against the wall.

Baze boxes in the air bitterly. “Chirrut, incidentally, can you recall an other phone number? I could take my chances with it…” he crouches back down to Chirrut with surrender. Chirrut bows his head reflexively than he shakes it as if he cannot decide. 

“Maybe...there is a number I know by heart...of the young Mr. Andor…” he says uncertainly.

Something heavy in Baze’s chest curls up as he fights to breath and he filters the name through his teeth “Cassian?” Chirrut knows Cassian’s number by heart, this sentence howls in his mind with an echo. He has to calm down, he has to breath. Chirrut has any right to know any phone number of any men or any women he wants. 

Baze senses are already high and the realization comes to him in cruel waves. During these years someone surely captured Chirrut’s perfectly shaped lips. Someone surely traced his hungry skin with delicate fingers and made him moan sweetly and sigh from pleasure. The idea coshes Baze, but that does not mean that he can ignore the facts, that someone must have loved Chirrut in many way.

It is even more unbearable to imagine that he has not many but only one love. Who owns his mouth, unfolds the hidden, sensitive spots of his body, shares his days and nights, knows his thoughts, dreams, ups and downs. Surely Chirrut has to have somebody. Baze had lovers too. But all of them are dead in action. All his lovers and almost all the friends. And he is lucky that he wasn’t always there when they were chased down by a sniper or torn apart by a grenade. By the end of the war he had no more lovers and no more friends. After he came back to Jedha he had only a few flippant relationships than Jyn came in the picture. But Chirrut surely is loved by someone.

Chirrut’s voice pulls him out of his own head. “Baze...don’t you want to write it down?” he asks probably for umpteenth time waving his card with the blank side up towards him. “Baze?” he lifts his face slightly to the ceiling listening. 

Baze grumbles under his breath than turns to the guard. “Do you have a pen?”

The guard makes a “tsk” sound and sardonically asks “Can I serve with anything else as well?” but he lands a pen so Baze quickly notes down the number. The trooper guides him to the telephone and he takes a shaky breath before dialing. It rings out and in the next moment somebody picks it up. “Cassian’s speaking. Is that you Chirrut?”

Baze clears the situation, tells briefly to Cassian where they are and he promises to come right away. Baze feels small ease in his body after the call but he cannot calm down entirely. He walks up and down along the tiny cell as they are waiting Cassian to arrive and probably set them free. The adrenalin is still running in his blood, the movements of the fight of the day are flexing his muscles. And top of that … Cassian… The rage what helped him survive as a soldier is infesting his mind.He struggles to shake it off.

A good half an hour later Cassian arrives with a man he never saw before. Bodhi is stomping behind them. The two men stops at the desk of the patrol but Bodhi runs directly to the cell. “Hey boss! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I am fine! Where is Jyn? Is she ok?” he asks back with worry. 

“Except from a little fright she’s fine. Safe and sound at home. I didn’t want to bring her here.” he looks back to where Cassian and the other guy are immersed in a haggling with the officers. “Cassian brought the lawyer of the University with him so I guess it won’t take long to get you out.” he says glancing at Chirrut.

“Ah, yes.” realises Baze. “This is Chirrut Îmwe, Chirrut this is Bodhi Rook.” 

Chirrut comes closer and he stretches out his hand through the bars to Bodhi. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Despite the circumstances.” he puts on a kind smile that shows that he is really pleased. There is nothing more to say just waiting which seems not to fit well to Chirrut. “So...Mr. Rook…”

“Just Bodhi, sir.” he pleads embarrassed. 

“Bodhi…” tastes the word Chirrut. “Are you a friend of Baze?” he leans against the door of the cell with his best winning smile.

“Ugh...I work at the garage. I build up the bikes” he replies even more shyly than before 

To Baze biggest surprise Chirrut cracks open Bodhi’s shell in a minute and they start a nice little conversation about Bodhi’s bike, his daily work, the clients, both casually leaning against the two side of the bars as if they were in a pub on a pleasant evening. This moment of magic disappears when Cassian comes to them unsatisfied.

“Hey, everybody is alright?” he asks concerned. They assure him that they would be better out than in so he continues. “I have bad news. They won’t put a charge against you...but they are going to let you out only tomorrow morning. We cannot do anything. It is some kind of procedure we cannot fight with.” 

Baze feels his fists clenching and tries to relax them. It is only one night. No big deal. “Don’t worry, we come back before eight tomorrow morning. You two just have some rest if you can.” He grabs Chirrut’s shoulder reassuringly and Chirrut squeezes his arm. Cassian says goodbye as they leave.

He is stucked up with Chirrut in a small cell for a whole night. Weariness slowly takes over his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think about the idea if Chirrut and Cassian? I'm so curious...
> 
> Pls stay tuned for next week's update, everything is going to be...more twisted. :-)


	5. Chapter 5

The patrol is quiet although troopers and every kind of officers are moving all around minding their own businesses. The cell they are in is in the back, everybody can see them and Baze can see everybody if he wishes to. There is a second cell next to them, empty. Baze muses whether they took the others who were arrested to a different patrol whether Chirrut and himself is the only one who get caught. That wouldn’t be the first time.

His mind is calm now and his body slowly follows. Baze is sitting on the opposite side facing Chirrut. Until now he was so busy to control his emotions, anger and shaking limbs he could pay attention to nothing else. 

First of all he shouldn’t have let Jyn participate in that stupid protest. If he allowed, he would have been there to take her out before anything could happen. Jyn got in trouble, when he wanted to save her he pulled in Bodhi too and finally he pushed in custody Chirrut as well. Everybody he cares for got in trouble because he wasn’t cautious. It is not logical but he feels it true in the depth of his soul.

Baze slowly emerges out from this state which seems like to be after one of those nightmares. He doesn’t remember what actually happened, but the sense of wrongness leaves a bad taste in his mouth and makes his heart bitter. He knows this well, it started before he left, accompanied him during the war and didn’t left him even on peaceful days.

It is early in the evening. Cassian and Bodhi left just an hour ago. He looks up to Chirrut who sits still leaning to the wall except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. He moves his head a little to catch every little voice, shred of speak, creak of step, sound of objects moving in the patrol. From where Baze is sitting it seems that he is soundlessly murmuring something. He is praying, Baze realises and makes an involuntary hiss which drags Chirrut’s attention. He turns in Baze’s direction.

Baze’s clothes are dirty from the dust he was pushed in, no worse than what a washing machine could not fix. He has no visible injuries but he can feel his ribs. Chirrut appearance is more shattered. As an evidence of being given a good tug he misses some buttons at the top of his shirt leaving his right collarbone and chest exposed. The shoulder of his suit jacket is torn making the sleeve hang clumsy. There is an ugly bruise on his cheek and from the way he holds himself Baze can tell that he has some badly treated ribs as well.

Baze clears his throat. “Hey, are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine!” His voice is a little hoarse, though, so Baze clambers up to his feet to go to the water dispenser in a reach next to their cell to fill two plastic cups. Chirrut takes it when Baze presses it in his hand and they both drink in silence. 

“Why did you do it?” Chirrut asks slowly.

“Why did I do it...?” Chirrut should know that he wouldn’t leave Jyn on her own. They might have not met in a long time, but Chirrut surely couldn’t suspect him of not willing to save her. What does he think? “The hell, Chirrut! Jyn was there and…”

“Of course!” Chirrut rises one hand coincidently. “I mean after she was out...Why didn’t you vanish in the crowd?”

“There were too many troopers.” Baze managed after a moment. “I didn’t have the time.” 

“Hmpf…” Chirrut pauses, brows high up in disbelief, and then snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “I believe not one word of you. ”

Baze mutters low in his throat. “The fight... carried me off…” he waits for the reaction of the other who nods reflexively accepting the answer. “And you? Why didn’t you flew away?” 

Chirrut gives a scandalous gasp. “How could I? Don’t you see that I am blind?” He points angrily towards his eyes and presses his lips into a disbelieving pout, but Baze knows him. In the first place Baze is sure that he could have find his way out if he really wanted. And in the second place there was that small hue in Chirrut’s voice, the slight curve at the corners of his mouth – Chirrut is teasing him.

“Nothing has changed than.” he cannot hide the smile. Staying as close to Chirrut, meddling in his life was something he didn’t want to let happen in all the last years. But at the moment it seems inevitable so he might deal with it as best he can.

“So, it looks like that they won’t let us out until the morning”. he says, filling once more Chirrut’s cup. “We are are stuck here together for the night.”

“Right.” Chirrut mutters, testing the weight of the cup. “We are forced to stay together.”

“We are not forced to!” Baze spats sloping a few drops of water to the ground. The sneer in Chirrut’s voice makes him boil in a blink. They don’t have to spend a minute together if Chirrut doesn’t want to if it is really what he meant. Baze is not sure. 

“I can ask the guards to put me in the other cell. You can be on your own figuring out why did you allow the demonstration and what other things you can let happen to destroy the University.” At least this is so familiar, these words between them. He stepped into an old routine to fill the gap of not understanding. The words repeated many times in many different ways all come back like stray cats.

“The University?” asks Chirrut in confusion. “So you remember that it’s important? What a surprise…”

“I remember it just like you!” Baze spats out more water spreading his hands. “And now you let the Empire march everywhere to ruin it, than perhaps the Temple and after the whole city...everything that is precious...again…”

“Not the University, the Temple or the city…” says Chirrut in a voice unspeakably sad. “...is what is precious, Baze.” he continues slowly measuring every word. “And I’m not sure that you or me alone would be enough to stop the Empire rise again.”

“That is what you think. Every act counts! Every man counts!” Baze replies. They’d had this quarrel hundred times before Baze left. Suddenly he felt the urge for a battle again, for a combat where he can face the soldiers of the Empire that destroys all what is important to him. He forces himself to take a few deep breaths to let it go, to push it back down. 

Chirrut’s face shines up by a smile and he tilts his head up. “At least I know where Miss Erso gets her ideas and temper from.” He turns his ears to him to hear better his reaction.

 

Baze gives an angry voice. “Uhh... I call for a guard to put me in the next cell.” he says as he steps closer to the door.   
“Don’t call for the guard!” Chirrut bows his head, crossing his arms and fixing the plastic cup with unseeing eyes. Baze stairs at him wondering what is he thinking about. Their years spent together or apart? They fights won or lost? The happy or the sad? The people they know and who they do not? The things they understand or the things they don’t? It seems that there are many of those. “Stay, please!” sais Chirrut softly.

“Alright, of course.” says Baze, though it isn’t alright at all.

It is still too early to sleep so he just tries to relax. Chirrut is in silence and he is not used to his silence. He doesn’t seem to pray. He looks rather pondering on something. Baze wishes Chirrut to speak. Even if they dispute. Even he doesn’t want to speak with Baze. Perhaps if he would speak Baze would find a way to reach him. With a sigh Baze reminds himself that he doesn’t want to step back in Chirrut’s life in the first place. He lost his right to do so long time ago.

He decides to let it go for tonight. His thoughts are wandering to Jyn being at home. Probably Bodhi told her what happened and she doesn’t worry. Not too much at least. One night in exchange Jyn’s safety is not a big price. 

“Baze…?” says suddenly Chirrut from the other side. His voice is small, insecure. The crisp light makes his face paler and his eyes deeper. “Can you please tell me where are we? What is this place...looks like?”

Chirrut’s expression is pleading, eyes fixed on the feet of Baze, as if it is painful and embarrassing to ask. Baze remembers the time when Chirrut wouldn’t hesitate to ask, when he wouldn’t… Baze can’t get to the end of this idea as suddenly there is a heavy weight falling on him as everything clicks into place. Everything he believed, feared, abandoned or did is just the other way around. 

“Baze?”

Baze tries to answer but words are slipping out of his mind. He takes a shuddery inhale, than a second one. He cleares his throat feeling his heart pumping in it, feeling his guts rising to it. Everything goes black for a moment, the blood runs out from his leg, he can’t stop the trembling of his body, the shaking of his hands. Everything he had been hiding for all these years come to him at once.

“Baze...Baze! Baze!” Suddenly Chirrut is right beside him repeating his name, leaning close, touching him to understand, hands squeezing his arm, patting his shoulder, forcing him to look up. Baze just shakes his head still searching for lost words that maybe never existed. 

“Baze, talk to me!” Chirrut pleads gently. “Are you alright? Just breath! Hey, I’m here. Just talk to me! Tell me...something!”

Baze just shakes his head and tries to slow down his breathing. I can tell you nothing. I left you because I wanted to protect you. I wanted to fight for what we had. And I failed. Who did I protect? What was I fighting for? Everything vanished from my hands.

A painful sound gushes out from Baze’s throat and he covers his face with his hand and suddanly as if a dam was open, thoughts strated to flod.

'I left you alone in your darkness. To face with every change on your own. To take care of the things that matter to you without help. I fought in a war in far away places for something unreachable. I saw many of us die for graspless reasons. I ran away to do something good but I only brought suffer to you and for me. '

He can only breath out loud still covering his face.

'All that useless struggle... When I came back I didn’t know anymore who I am. I returned to Jedha to see if there is anything left from me. I was afraid to see you, you to see me like this. I would have brought only more pain.'

Baze’s chest closes up so badly he needs to press his palm on it to be able to breath. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head again.

'You are right, you were right all the time. These things don’t matter. It is the people who matter. You stayed alone and I stayed alone.' 

“I was so wrong whole the time.” Baze hears himself to say aloud this last thought. He gasps for air and the way Chirrut squeezes his wrist frozen like a stone, Baze understands that probably he said everything aloud not just the last words. He covers his face again, as if his hand could shield him from guilt. Shame twists his belly and burns his eyes. The world is turning around him.

Chirrut’s hands are shaking on him but holding more stronger. “I thought...I thought you left because of me...” Chirrut says in low voice swallowing hardly. “…because I couldn’t do more… I wasn’t strong enough… I thought... I was just a burden to you that you wanted to left behind... ” 

Baze opens his eyes wide with disbelief and just stares at him for a few moment trying to deal with the pain flooding from Chirrut. He reaches up to cradle his cheek but he forces himself to put some distance between them, so stops in the middle of the motion and puts his hand only on Chirrut’s shoulder. “You were never a burden. You are the strongest man I’ve ever known and I loved you. I left to protect you, Chirrut.” 

Chirrut rises his head with a heavy sigh. “You left because you loved me…? Such a fool… as you were always.” Baze recognises that this is what he was waiting for. An open path to Chirrut, perhaps forgiveness, perhaps absolution. His heart is beating madly, all his body flushes hot and becomes as light as it wasn’t for long years now. 

“Yes, I was fool and I am still one. You were my only love, Chirrut, my only love.” Baze takes Chirrut’s hands between his own and just holds them tight never willing to let go.

Chirrut leans closer and Baze can feel his body pressing against his side. “As you were mine.” his whisper is a warm breeze. “You are my only love.” Perhaps none of them notices how the last sentence changed in Chirrut’s mouth. Relief fills their body slowly with sweet sensations and later they fell asleep still holding hands.

 

*****************************************

 

The shift change in the patrol is noisy and smells coffee. It’ already morning, Baze thinks as he forces his eyes to open. He makes some careful moves to ease his stiff limbs and aching back, stretches until his spine poppes.

Baze isn’t even surprised to see Chirrut sitting cross-legged on the cement floor face toward the filtered light dropping in weakly. After realising that Chirrut is wrapped up deeply in his meditation Baze doesn’t move too much to not to disturb. To tell the truth he doesn’t really know how to act after what happened the night before. So he just tries to ignore his rumbling stomach and waits.

There is a soft change in Chirrut’s breathing and words come louder on his lips. I’m one with the force and the force is with me. He needs some more minutes to come back entirely wherever he was. Baze carefully leans on his tights. Chirrut takes a deep inhale then lets it out slowly. “Good morning, Baze!” greets him without turning.

“Morning!” answers Baze on his early morning voice and starts to stand up and stretch out his body minding every painful spot. Chirrut jumps up from his position with an easiness that Baze curses and admires in the same time.

“What time it can be?” Chirrut asks him.

“A little past seven.” answers Baze peeking up the clock above the front desk. “Bodhi and Cassian should be soon here.”

Chirrut smirks. “I hope they bring some coffee!”

“A strong one!” agrees Baze and Chirrut grin grows wider. Baze catches himself smiling back and it is familiar. Familiar and comforting. Chirrut looks so alive with his kind smile, perky wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and golden skin glowing even in the dim light. Baze would like to reach out to him, to fondle his cheek and to cradle him in his arms watching his lips lift up to Baze’s own. 

He brushes off the move and just lets himself enjoy this cozy state but not for long as the front door smacks up open and Cassian, Bodhi and Keyto rush through it followed by an odd noise that disappears when they close the door. They hear Cassian arguing with the guard in the front desk pointing in their direction. After a few minutes a trooper they haven’t seen before comes to open the door and they walk out. Just as simple.

Bodhi jumps right to Baze. “Morning, boss!” he holds up two cups in his hands that smell coffee. “I didn’t bring Jyn with me. It wouldn’t be safe for her to show up after this nightmare.”

“What nightmare?” bites back Baze troubled and reaches for the paper cup Bodhi gives to him. The coffee is black and strong. 

“Oh, you just can’t imagine all that madness outside!” clutters Keyto. “The telephone was ringing continuously in the office till I left. I don’t know how, but they got my personal phone number and they tried to reach me the whole night through. I had to shut it down. I’m sure you’ve received hundreds of messages too, doctor Îmwe!”

Baze and Chirrut just stare them with a puzzled face and finally Baze explodes. “What a hell are you talking about? What nightmare? Who calls you on the phone? What the fuck is going on?”

Now it’s the other’s turn to look with a surprised face and finally Cassian explains. “All the news are full of the videos about how Chirrut was put down and arrested yesterday. The journalists keep calling us since last night.” he shrugs. “They’re outside waiting for you, Chirrut, to go out.”

“Oh.” Baze manages to say nothing more. 

“How did they found out where we are?” Chirrut asks raising his brow as he puts his long fingers around his cup. 

“Don’t know.” says Cassian resigned. “I brought you a shirt and a suit jacket to change. Yours are really tattered.” he lifts the bag in his hands in Chirrut direction totally wasted. 

“No, thank you, Cassian, but I don’t want to change my clothes.” Chirrut straightens his position. “Let them see.” he sips his coffee.

Cassian hesitates for a moment then shrugs. “Ok, as you wish.” he puts down the bag. “Let me fix your clothes at least.” he steps closer.

Baze’s heart sank as he watches the confident moves as Cassian touches Chirrut who doesn’t step back, doesn’t protest just spreads out his arms and lets Cassian to put on his belt, tug his shirt in his trousers, to reach under the collar of his jacket to set it in place, to smooth the wrinkles all over, to button up his suit and to adjust a little bit of the sadly hanging sleeve. He kneels in front of him to lace up his shoes.

Baze knows from the silent intimacy that this is not the first time Cassian does this. His heart aches so much he has to turn down his head to look into his half full cup.

“Now, it’s ok.” says Cassian as he touches Chirrut’s hair to arrange it a bit as well. “At least a little bit better…” The truth is that Chirrut’s appearance didn’t changed much. 

“Am I good-looking now?” asks Chirrut with a smirk to cut the edges of Cassian’s worry.

“I would hardly say.” chuckles Cassian. “But you are presentable at least.” he taps his shoulder. “Alright, we go out.” his voice becomes more focused. “We go out first with Chirrut. Bodhi, please smuggle out Mr. Malbus when everyone’ attention is on us.” Bodhi nods with serious eyes. “Chirrut I will go in front of you trying to cover your right and Keyto will be on your left side a little bit on the back. My car is right outside, don’t stop until you’re in it. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I won’t stop until I’m in the car. You two guide me.” repeats Chirrut obediently. He drinks the last drop of his coffee and they are preparing to go out.

Keyto takes a deep breath and opens the door. Chirrut stops to look back on the left shoulder of Baze. “Good by, Baze!” Before he could answer Cassien pulls Chirrut with him.

Bodhi tries to hold back Baze, but he is curious to see what is happening so he follows them after a few seconds. The scene outside is like in the movies. Broadcasting cars are parking everywhere, journalist are moving on the street before the patrol and they jump right on the three of them clicking cameras, pushing closer microphones and shouting questions as Chirrut was somebody famous.

“Do you believe that the University is still independent?”  
“What do you think about the First Order’s reaction?”  
“Will the Empire take the power on Jedha?”  
“Have you been threatened earlier?”

Questions are showering them and they can hardly get through the crowd. Cassian manages to reach the car, opens the back door and helps Chirrut in. Keyto jumps next to him as Cassian rounds the car to get quickly in and steps on the gas without looking back.

Baze stands on the top of the stairs with Bodhi and follows the car with his eyes. The journalist are still marooning around the patrol without a glance on them. Bodhi touches gently his arm. “Come on, boss! My car is over there.”

Baze turns to him. “Ok, let’s go. I need a good shower, I think.” He’s glad that he has Bodhi but more, he can’t wait to see Jyn again.


	6. Chapter 6

Jyn runs out of the house at the moment Bodhi’s car stops in front of the garage door and jumps on Baze as soon as he gets out of the car clutching his shoulder and crossing her leg around his waist. “Tell me everything! Was it awful?” Jyn entreats after a long hug. 

“It wasn’t as bad as I remembered.” replies Baze and tries to make a reassuring smile. Bodhi says goodbye so Baze steps to him to shake his hand and thanks him everything he had done. Bodhi just shrugs. “It’s ok, boss. You help me also a lot. I’m glad I can pay back some.” he sits back in the car and backs out. Despite Baze wants nothing more than a shower and rest a bit he recalls the events of the last night trying to keep up with Jyn’s unstoppable questions. 

In the house Baze settles on the couch of the living room. Jyn sits close to him holding his hand tightly. She is smiling but Baze can see in her eyes that she is still really scared. “I am fine, and Chirrut is fine too. We just had a nice, quiet sleep and we were out.” tells Baze soothing words.

“We were so worried after we saw they put you in that car.” Jyn ducks her head in his chest. “We came back here with Bodhi and Cassian to wait for your call.” she rises her head. “Somebody made a video about the riot troopers attacking the students and how prof Îmwe was punched with a truncheon and wrestled to the ground. It spread out quickly and the media picked it up. We could see it everywhere. Keyto went back to the University to try to find some more info there but nobody knew nothing! I was so scared!” 

“Don’t worry, my little Jyn.” Baze runs a thumb over her cheek. “I am alright, you see?” than he holds her in his arms again. As Baze slowly relaxes he feels how much he worried for Jyn. “What about you? How did you spend the night?”

“Bodhi and Cassian came back to tell me that they don’t let you out just this morning.” Jyn sighs. “They stayed to keep me company. We watched the news and ate some snacks.” she blushes and looks sheepishly to Baze. “Cassian was so kind, he even helped me do the dishes.” 

“Did he?” Baze is not sure what he has to say or he has to say anything at all.

“Yes...Uhm… Aren’t you hungry?” Jyn pushes herself up and goes to the kitchen to make a tea and a sandwich while Baze leans back on the couch. “You know…” says Jyn from the kitchen. “...he talked about this fundraising gala…”

“Oh, oh! We’re just over one thing and you’re going to put your finger in another one.” says Baze disapprovingly.

“It’s for the restoration of the Temple…” Jyn talks to the shelves of the fridge.

“Mhmmm…” Baze hums and shakes his head.

“Cassian said that there are still lots of things to arrange and there are only a few to help.” she comes back and places a ham and cheese sandwich in front of Baze. “So, I thought I can offer my help. I’m good in organising things…”

“A fundraising gala for the Temple.” Baze’s words are drawn in the chewing so he swallows big and makes a very innocent face. “I thought you said you don’t want to support dead traditions…”

Jyn just shrugs and turns red again. “I know...But it is important for prof Îmwe and he helped a lot...so I thought maybe I could repay it with this...and Cassian said they could use more hands… so…”

Baze considers his words before airing them out. “It’s not only for Chirrut but for Cassian too, isn’t it? Cassian...was he...uhm… nice to you?”

“Oh, yes!” she smiles and practically glows. “Such a gentleman… “ she puts her hands on her heart. Baze raises his brows and Jyn suddenly drops her smile and her hands in her lap. “I mean...How do you know if someone likes you? Ugh, I used to know it...but I am not sure…with Cassian.”

“You think he doesn’t like you?” asks Baze carefully putting the empty plate on the table. 

“I think he likes me. He holds my hand and he gives me that look, you know…” well, actually Baze didn’t know and mostly didn’t want to imagine how men give that look to Jyn. “...but he doesn’t make any move.”

“My little Jyn…” Feeling foolish recalling how Cassian touched Chirrut that morning, Baze cannot decide if he should share this with her or not. He might be wrong about that. “I don’t know what to say. Perhaps he has other engagements.” Jyn crosses her arms before her chest and looks a bit lost. Than she turns to Baze “I almost forgot, father called several times… you should call him back.” she picks up the empty plate. “And you should take a shower as well.” puts a small kiss on Baze’s cheek.

Baze preserves the feeling of the light touch of Jyn’s lips on his cheek and closes his eyes. He should call Galen, Jyn’s real father. They haven’t been talking for a year or so and never met before. Not even when he took Jyn under his guard six years ago.

It was about the end of the second year after he returned to Jedha. Two years of struggle spent mostly sleeping or wandering around the city and trying not to think on   
blastings, explosions, wailings, bleedings and eyes in terror. Two years gone with the wind like sand. He spent his retirement on the rent of a flat in the outskirts of the city and food. And that’s all. Baze can hardly remember how he spent his days. Nothing made any sense.

One day he was sitting in a park when a teenage girl sat by his side and just stared at him. It was embarrassing after a while. He cleared his throat. He didn’t speak to anyone since weeks. “What are you staring?” his voice was scratched, unused, unkind. He abhorred it.

“You.” the girl’s answer hit a tone that meant: isn’t that obvious? 

“Where are your parents?” Baze tried again but the girl just shrugged, rubbed her palm in her worn jeans and stared further. That was odd. Jedha was a wounded city back then but teenagers weren’t walking around alone every day. It. Is. None. Of. My. Business. That was what he thought but the girl just stared at him and pushed herself closer. She had the smell of the alleyways of the city and honey. 

Baze groaned a little, muffled sound. “What’s your name?” he asked hesitantly, he doesn’t really want to know. The girl pressed her lips together. “My name is Baze.” words came lubberly on his lips. When was the last time he told it out loud? Couldn’t recall. “Baze Malbus.”

The girl tilted her head to let her brown, disheveled hair fall on her shoulder. “Jyn Erso.” she said firmly and Baze hissed. He definitely didn’t want to hear this. The whole galaxy was looking for that girl. He knew as much as anybody, pieces of the shady story.

Jyn Erso was the daughter of Galen and Lyra Erso. Lyra was killed five years ago by the soldiers of the Old Empire. Galen disappeared and many thought he was working for the Empire who knows what and who knows if voluntary or by force. Jyn was taken in by Saw Guerrera, a separatist rebel who vanished a few days before. At that moment everybody was looking for him and this little girl.

Baze opened his eyes in a hope that he was just dreaming but the girl was still there leaning closer as she studied sorely Baze’s face. He took a quick decision. He couldn’t let the newly forming First Order to find the girl. Jyn. He took his phone and called Ruescott Melshi, one and perhaps the last friend from the old times. After Baze told him that he found the girl there was a long silence. Rue then told him to take the girl with him, hide her and wait for his call.

How could he do that? His flat was a mess, his life was a mess and himself the biggest mess of all. He didn’t know why, but he took the girl with him anyway and Jyn followed without a question. The next month rushed away as quick he didn’t notice. Saw melt into thin air, Galen materialized in turn in the guise of a phone call asking him to take Jyn in his guard. He did as he was told, as he was asked. He couldn’t say no.

Baze asked Jyn only at the end of that month when they were sitting in the middle of his tiny, smelly and uncomfortable apartment. “Why me?” Jyn looked in his eyes with a wondering look. “Because you seemed as lonely as me.”

In the first year Baze managed to gather himself a little bit. First he cleaned up the apartment and bought some stuff and clothes for Jyn. He found a school for her and while she was away Baze started to build a motorbike for himself. A guy saw it when he was driving around and asked for a similar one. Then he passed his number to others and Baze caught himself building bikes, renting a garage, a house in a pleasant district of Jedha. And here they are five years later, Jyn grown up, going to University and Baze having a life. A real life.

He taps on his phone and waits for the ring tone.

“Baze, it’s you?” Galen’s voice is blunt.

“Yes, it’s me. Hello, Galen!”

“How could you put out Jyn to such a danger?” he asks without waiting for Baze to finish.

Baze holds himself but his fingers tightens on the phone. “It supposed to be a quiet piece-marche.” Galen’s silence makes him add more. “It’s very unusual to have riot troopers in the University.” he hears Galen trying to even his breathing.

“Yes, well, I believe so. Ehm… Thank you for getting her out.” says than more quietly. “I spoke to her and she seems to be alright. She said you arrived in the right moment.”

“I wish I had arrived earlier a bit. Than I wouldn’t have been in trouble.” Baze can almost hear how Galen is thinking on the other end of the phone. Baze doesn’t really know Galen, he keeps lots of secrets but he always tries to do what he can if needed. 

“I suppose not…” Galen answers. “Have you been charged?”

“No, I think not.”

“I can double check it to be sure. You know the other guy who was arrested with you?” asks him almost whispering. Perhaps somebody approached him, thinks Baze. He doesn’t know if he should say to Galen he knows “the other guy”. “Some Îmwe...I heard it in the news…” prompts Galen.

“He is one of Jyn’s prof at the University.” Baze thinks that is better to put in that way.

“Ok, I check for him as well. If he is one of Jyn’s teacher.” Baze doesn’t say anything. He is waiting, it seems that Galen isn’t finished yet. “Baze?” he continues.

“Yes, Galen?”

“Is Bodhi ok? I spoke to him, he said he is ok...Is he really?”

Baze feels with Galen in that moment. Either he is on the bad side or not he has to worry about two loved ones when it is just enough to worry about one. “He is alright. He is a tough boy!” he says reassuringly and earns a relieved sigh before Galen finishes the call.

Baze slowly climbs the stairs to the bathroom next to his bedroom to have his well deserved shower. He pulls his T-shirt over his head and pushes into the cleaner. Unbuttons his trousers, slips out of them and checks the pockets for any forgotten thing. From one of the back-pocket he pulls out a piece of paper and freezes. 

For a long moment he stands in his underwear in the white bathroom light blinking at the tiny white sheet. It’s Chirrut’s card. Baze swears sitting down on the toilet, fingers clutching his phone. His heels are slapping gently against the tile floor as his knee is jumping in a steady rhythm. 

He types in the numbers and holds his thumb above the green call button. He closes his eyes and keeps his breath in when he pushes it. It’s ringing out. He lets it ring for a while, maybe Chirrut won’t pick it up at all considering the tons of calls Keyto mentioned. He almost hangs up when he hears a small click.

“Yes?” Baze isn’t prepared with words. He curses himself, he should have figured out what to say. Stareing on the phone doesn’t help. “Can I help?” asks Chirrut losing his patience.

“Yes, hi. Hello!” falters out Baze miserably. “Uhm, it’s me...Baze.” warning himself to tell his name.

“Baze…” comes a surprised little gasp. “...how do you know my number?”

Baze winces, perhaps he shouldn’t have called him. “Your card...you gave it to me to note down Cassian’s number.”

“Oh, I remember now!” chuckles Chirrut which makes Baze cramping stomach relax a bit. 

“Uhm…” Baze is in anguish, he still doesn’t know what to say. “Did you got home safely?”

“Oh, yes, thank you for the question.” answers Chirrut lightly. “Journalists aren’t as eager to follow me to my home. I think they took enough picture when we got out from the patrol.” Baze can almost feel his smooth laughter tickling his ear. He recalls the smooth wrinkles in the corner of Chirrut’s eyes, the evidence of the easily and often coming smiles. 

“Good, good. It’s a good news.” he curses himself again rubbing his face. This is so embarrassing. Why have he called Chirrut at all? Then an idea slaps in. “Uhm… I don’t know if I ever thank you for holding up the riot troopers. It was...a brave thing to do.” It was true at least. Chirrut doesn’t answer and Baze’s palm slowly becomes clammy. 

Chirrut’ sound is smooth in the speaker. “I think you overestimate me, again.” the words are cheerful. “If you wish so ardently to give expression to your gratitude...you could take me out for dinner.” In his mind Baze can see the grim on Chirrut’s face. 

“Deal.” Baze pounces on the offer. “Where and when?”

“Tomorrow night? You chose the place.” Chirrut’s smile grows wider even through the phone.

“The teahouse in the Old Town, The Jedi, we used to go, still exists. Tomorrow 6 pm?” offers Baze without hesitation.

“Make it 7 and it’s ok for me.” 

“Meet you there.” Baze can’t hold back his happy smirk when he hangs up the phone. His smile fades as he murmurs to himself: 'I don't want to stir up his life. Just don't mess his life up again, Baze!'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dears, maybe the next chap upload will take more time as I will be travelling, so perhaps I can't write as much as I wish.  
> But keep on: romantic reunions and more drama are on their way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it took too long for this next chapter to update, but here it is. Enjoy!

The Jedi is on the main square of the Old Town in a corner where one of the narrow and mazy streets opens. Any local knows it since their childhood, the young ones just like the elder. It’s a teahouse but it’s not hold dear only because of the noble drink but the handmade sugar nut cake they serve with the tea. 

Baze spots out Chirrut crossing the square while he is getting down and settling his motorbike. He looks dashing, Baze thinks, he looks just as dashing as he had twenty years ago, even if his clothes are more...different. More posh, Baze smiles to himself. Chirrut is in denim from head to toe. He wears a deep-blue denim suit coat above a pale blue denim shirt and ink dotted waistcoat with a worn jeans. Too much denim shouldn’t work, but is does for Chirrut, who, at that moment, looks ten years younger than Baze.

His cane taps lightly out in front of him as he walks, but his confident steps shows that the cane is almost unnecessary. His focus is on the teahouse, but as he gets closer he tilts his head in the direction of Baze if he could somehow see him standing there. Baze goes to meet him in halfway and clears his throat to be audible. “Hello, Chirrut!” and a long forgotten shiver runs through his body.

“Baze!” Chirrut’s face lit up and Baze shakes his proffered hand to stand there furthermore in confused silence. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” proposes than Chirrut. 

There’s an unoccupied table squeezed to the wall at the other end of the small place with two mismatched chairs. The brick wall around smells like tea and incense, the dim light elongates the shadows. Nothing changed since decades, Baze thinks, even the chairs are tilting the same way as they used to be.

“You need the types of the teas?” Baze asks.

“No, it’s ok. I’ll have their speciality, the gunpowder tea.” and Baze places the orders.

“So you are running a motorbike garage?” sets himself comfortable Chirrut.

“We mostly pimp up bikes, but we also offer service for bikes we made.” explains Baze.

“I can really imagine you doing that.” says Chirrut warmly. “You were always up to fixing things.” 

“And you are a professor of history... and a dean.” says Baze still with a little disbelief.

“That surprises you?” 

“Well, I always thought you will end up as a politician, in the Senate.” this idea makes Chirrut’s brows rise in surprise. “You and Bail were talking about politics, governance and taxes for hours. And he is in the Senate now, I see him in the news every day. It’s true that he has been more strategique but you, you had always a good sense for intrigue.” Baze lowers his voice to tease a bit.

Chirrut still has his brows rosen but grins. “I take this as a compliment. Hmmm, if we are talking about intrigue…” he stops in the middle of the sentence to lift his focus behind Baze and the waitress arrives in the next second with their order. Chirrut lazily drops a piece of nutcake in his mouth and makes a luscious moan that makes Baze blood run faster. “Mhmmm, I could die for this cake, I swear.” he says than he smells the tea.

“What were you going to say about intriguing?” Baze asks when he is finally able to make his tongue turn.

“Oh, that…” Chirrut furrows his brows than shrugs. “This nutcake made me forget…To tell the truth I never wanted to be a politician. I love to be surrounded with young students and see how their perception of the world opens and deepens.” he rises his chin with a shy smile on his face. “I think they keep me young.” Baze can only agree with that. 

“And you are restless, as I heard from Jyn.” Baze says smiling.

“What do you mean?” Chirrut leans back on his chair with a face turning blank.

“The Temple, the fundraising gala.” Baze wonders what made Chirrut suddenly reserved so he leans closer above the table to ease Chirrut’s discomfort. “It seems to be a big thing. Does it bring enough support?”

Chirrut’s face open up again and Baze would say his eyes are shining. “Partly. The bigger part of the financial support comes from the Senate.” Chirrut starts to explain with wide gestures. “Actually I’m going to meet them to place this year’s application the day after tomorrow. And the smaller part comes from the people of Jedha.” his smiles almost breaks his face. “A very small part usually.”

“Does it worth?”

“Ah, the Temple has always been in the center of my heart.” Chirrut wraps again his long fingers around the mug and the tender smile flys back on his face. “By the way, Miss Erso, Jyn, offered her help. Are you aware of it?”

“Yes, we discussed it. She has my permission.” grumbles Baze.

“Allright. I let the young Mr. Andor to guide her this afternoon.” Chirrut says with a conspirator smile which makes Baze groan.

“I think she will be a good help for the gala, but I don’t see what are you searching in the Temple.” he mumbles finally.

“Imagine all the sculptures, mosaics and frescos we might find the day when we finally can manage to get through the big hall.” he sighs shaking his head than he continues more enthusiastic. “I hope to find some long forgotten scripts or books we haven’t seen before.”

“You think there are still intacted corners inside?” asks Baze in disbelief. He can’t help staring at Chirrut’s hand laying next to his mug making small gestures with elegant twists of his wrist.

“I hope.” Chirrut answers firmly and spreads his fingers on the table. “If the empire couldn’t destroy Jedha, I am sure he couldn’t perish the Temple, which is, itself, as big as the whole city.” 

Baze doesn’t answer. He crosses his arm on the table and focuses on not to reach out for Chirrut’s hand covering the table. Chirrut tilts his head but decodes differently the silence. He laughs and says “Don’t let me jabber about the Temple. Tell me instead how do you find our battle-scarred city?”

Baze huffs. “It changed a lot.” and he adds “As we did.”

“Did we?” He can’t see Baze rolling his eyes, but he knows it anyway and smiles. “How did you change?”

Baze keeps quiet longer than it’s comfortable but Chirrut lets him the time, listening. “I grew older.” he blurts out slowly then finds a thing he can share. “And...I have tattoos.”

“You have tattoos?” now it’s Chirrut’s turn to lean closer in curiosity. “Where?” he tilts his head if he would like to peek under Baze’s black shirt.

“On my back and along my arms.” muses Baze.

“What kind of?” Chirrut grins like a child receiving his birthday present.

“All kinds of.”

“Figurative or nonfigurative?” prompts Chirrut further.

“All kinds of... I have a sleeve of a symbol of wings and what looks like a shining light on my right arm.” The rest I definitely won’t tell to Chirrut, Baze decides. The ones he made inked on him when he felt lost and lonely. The pair of starbirds on his back opening their wings as if they wanted to embrace each other. And most of all he won’t tell Chirrut that he has a prayer tattooed along his left arm hiding in a combination of the planets of the galaxy. 

Chirrut closes his eyes as if he’s imagining it. “It means you still wish to keep alive the light of the rebellion?” he asks opening his eyes looking directly in Baze’s own.

“There’s no need for that anymore.” Baze voice rumbles.

“What if it was needed?” Chirrut asks low and he pushes his hand forward almost touching Baze’s forearm crossed on his side of the table.

“I’m done with fighting.” Baze answers after a pause. “And there’s no need for it.” he repeats what he said before.

After a long moment Chirrut leans on the back of his tickering chair. Baze can’t help noticing that he left his damned, beautiful, strong hand on the table even if only on the edge of it. 

“I have a tattoo, too.” blurts out Chirrut in a soft voice.

“You? A tattoo?” it’s Baze turn to be surprised. “What do you need a tattoo for?” he wishes to bit back the words but it’s too late.

“It’s more of a scarification.” explains Chirrut. “To be able to feel it. On my arm.” he adds.

“Yeah? And what is it?”

“Two small starbirds.” a sheepish smile covers his face. “Symbol of the freedom of Jedha.” Obviously Baze knows it as he also knows well that the symbol of freedom is only one starbird, not a couple. 

Chirrut finally lets his hand drop in his lap and lazily stretches his legs out under the table. The chat continues with general and common topics about the university life, raising Jyn and motorcycles. Chirrut says nothing when Baze stretches out his legs the same way knocking their feet together. 

Baze is happy Chirrut isn’t able to see the way he can’t take his eyes off his smile, the way he blushes every time Chirrut laughs at something. Baze is determined he won’t ask for more, he won’t push for more, but it doesn’t mean he refuses to soak up every sound and every newly discovered expression coming from Chirrut.

“There is a zama-shiwo practice at the gym hall.” he emerges from his observations to Chirrut’s sound. “As the part of the education of the traditions.”

“You still practice? Zama-shiwo?” he is sure the answer will be a yes. Chirrut is more toned than ever, his muscles are shown even through the numerous layers of clothes.

“Yes, I do.” Chirrut confirms. “I spare usually with Mr. Andor. He is the one of the few people who treats me as an equal.”

Baze hisses. “Cassian?” he can only filter the name through his teeth. “He puts his finger in many things, it seems.” he grumbles. 

“Very perceptive you are.” Chirrut lits up his smile of a conspirator again. “He is a very talented young man, don’t you think?”

 

“I think I lost track of the hour.” Baze sputters. “Jyn must be at home now.” he smoothes the edges of his last words seeing Chirrut’s puzzled face . “I settle the bill.” 

Chirrut waits him outside while he pays at the counter next to the door. “Is it a long way to you? To get home?” asks Baze when he joins him putting on his light, black leather coat.

“I don’t live far.” shifts his weight Chirrut. “It’s about twenty minutes of walk.”

“It will be five minute by bike. I’ll drive you home.” the offer is also unexpected for Baze himself. 

“You came with a motorbike?” Chirrut furrows his brows. “No, it’s okay. I’ll walk.”

“Are you afraid?” teases him now Baze knowing this will rise Chirrut’s competitive side. “Of me or of the bike?”

“Neither of those.” comes Chirrut quick answer. “Just...I never sat on a motorbike before.”

“Than come on!” says Baze and guides Chirrut to the bike. He helps to Chirrut to put on the extra helmet and arranges the folded cane in the small case. Baze sits on the bike and holds it till Chirrut climbs behind putting his hands and his weight on his shoulders.

“You can cling on my shoulders or wrap your hands around my chest.” and adds when Chirrut hesitates. “Around my chest is safer.” Chirrut chooses the latter. He starts a little bit too speedily what makes Chirrut slide forward on the seat. The feeling is devastating, the engine between his legs and Chirrut leaning against his back. However Baze isn’t surprised at all to find him warm, strong and maddening when he tucks himself against his back.

************************************************

It really didn’t take more than five minutes to arrive in front of his place, Chirrut finds with a small regret. He climbs down still using Baze’s shoulders as a prop. 

It was late and he could hear the usual, quiet noise of the street after the engine stopped. The smack of the closing windows, music and snatches of conversation floating out, and above the whispers of the leafs of the surrounding trees moved by the soft wind. Three steps till the two pair of steps and four more till the entrance door. Chirrut isn’t willing to move instead he is searching in his pocket for his key without any rush.

“It was a nice evening.” Baze’s voice reaches him like a peaceful wave. He feels the sides his own lips curve up as he lets out slowly the air.

“Can I …” it’s his own hesitating voice. He shouldn’t be afraid to ask. “Can I … look at you?” he raises one hand for Baze could understand. No reply just the steady breathing of Baze.

“Of course.” says finally Baze as he moves a bit closer and perhaps bents a bit down as Chirrut guesses after the shift of his clothes and the sound of something he cannot identify. 

He rises his hand to find Baze’s chest to run his fingers up to his shoulders. Baze is slightly taller than him but what is new, he is broader, more solid and thicker with muscles as he remembered. Chirrut likes that so he slowly rises his fingers to his face. Baze breath becomes shallow as he moves into his touch.

First he feels his temple under his hairline to walk his fingers down to his eyes pausing at the smile-lines in the corner of Baze’s eyes. There is a deep, roughly healed scar on his left temple running next to his brow. Chirrut has to close his own eyes. He feels the well-shaped nose, the strong cheekbone to trace down his fingers to his mouth. 

He doesn’t hear anymore Baze breathing flow when he brushes his lower lip with a thumb than digs his fingertips in his beard. The touch of the tickling hair makes him smile. Baze has a beard now. Chirrut feels Baze’s face turning hot under his palm when he raises it again past his cheeks to slide on the side to feel Baze’s hair. 

Chirrut’s expression turns into marvel and he openes his eyes when he traces along a thick strand. He has to step a tiny bit closer to run his fingers among the waves feeling the curls and heaviness of the hair. Baze let his hair grow. He didn’t imagined Baze with long hair. Chirrut can’t control his breathing, it becomes unsteady as he pushes his hand entirely in Baze’s hair to cradle his skull at the back of his head.

Chirrut catches the sound as Baze suckes in a breath. He tilts his chin up as his mouth turns wet and his lips part waiting. Baze didn’t pull away but Chirrut can feel all the muscles tightening in his body. In this moment Chirrut curses his own unseeing eyes craving to see Baze’s expression to understand. He waits.

The moment stretches too long and Baze starts to back away gently with a grunt and Chirrut flickers. “Sorry…” he forces himself to say as he pulls back his hand. “...I was lost in memories.” Chirrut hopes he could fight back the sadness from his words.

Baze grunts again and takes a heavy step back. “It’s late, I better be going. Jyn has probably arrived home now.”

“Yes.” agrees Chirrut. “Thank you for the lovely night!”

“See you then…” Baze’s voice comes a few steps further. “...I guess.”

Chirrut fishes out his key, finds his way up to the entrance door with the help of his cane to open it while the engine of the motorcycle drones up. He enters into the apartment and closes the door to lean heavily against the inner side of it. His breathing is ragged and he presses the hand he touched Baze with on his chest above his thumping heart. His traitor heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me how you liked it! :-)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A quick update of the next chap to compensate the long time you had to wait for the previous one. :-)
> 
> Mix of a little drama and romance...

The Jedhan City Senate Hall must be an intimidating building, Chirrut guesses since he is walking in its shadow for minutes now to reach and climb the broad stairs. A soldier of the Jedhan army stops him after passing through the main gate which should be at least five times higher than him. He takes off his grey coat and lays on his forearm while they do the identification and the paperwork. Today he supposed to represent the University as the nominated leader of the restoration of the Temple of the Whills, so he wears its colours, grey suite with an embroidered red starbird covering the pocket on the chest.

He uncomfortably passes through the metal detector and another soldier guides him through the hallway. He lets the attempt for chatting as the soldier is without any word, he just follows his echoing steps tapping with his stick as some kind of reassurance because obviously there won’t be any obstacles in front of him on the slippery marble floor.

The elevator brings them up on the highest level and he is leaded in a small antechamber and offered a seat on a leather covered bench pressed to the wall. The room smells heavy of old wood probably covering it from floor to ceiling. He can sense one man standing in the room, a doorman, Chirrut remembers from his previous visits. 

Minutes pass slowly, but finally the door opens and the doorman touches his shoulder telling him to stand up, leave his coat on the bench and helps him face the door. Then the man steps into the space that opened.

“Doctor Chirrut Îmwe.” he hears than follows the sound to stand in front of the City Senate. The noises rises up to a towering ceiling hitting a dome in the Chamber of the Senate which must be rounded with large windows looking down on the people of Jedha as Chirrut can feel the weak warm of the approaching winter sun fall on him from every direction.

“Welcome in front of the Senate, doctor Îmwe.” First Senator Mothma’s voice pulls his focus on the members. They are more than ten sitting around a table, some of them Chirrut knows, some of them he had never spoke. Their presence is heavy in the open space in front of him. In the middle there is a steady, comforting easiness, must be Mon Mothma. On the left side he feels a massive emptiness, which is familiar, but Chirrut cannot identify. ‘I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.’ he centers himself and bows shortly. “You may speak up.”

“First Senator Mothma, senators, I am honored for being received.” Chirrut rises his chin toward the ceiling knowing the acoustic of the room will strengthen his voice. This is only a formality but it has to be done right. A tribute to the traditions, he reminds himself. “I am standing in front of you, your honours, hoping that you took in consideration and judged positively the apply for the support of the restoration of the Temple of the Whills, the cradle of the city, of their people and of our culture.” Chirrut doesn’t want to change the preaching tone of his voice.

He opens his mouth to continue, he is far from finishing his prepared speech, when Senator Mothma’s voice rises up. This is quit out of ordinary. “Doctor Îmwe,” Chirrut frowns but keeps his smile. “The case of the Temple has been always precious for the people of Jedha, thus for the Senate. That is why I wish immediately make it clear that we have made some changes in the management of the restoration works.”

“May I ask the nature of … the changes?” asks Chirrut totally puzzled.

“In recent weeks, your actions have shown a strong opposition to the First Order, which is a very delicate matter for the Senate, whose main concern is the preservation of peace and balance. So that you to be the leader of the works of the Temple furthermore is undesirable.” Chirrut is standing there like he was hit by a cold shower cane pressing against his chest. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “The message your actions sent through the press forced the Senate to make a difficult decision.” Senator Mothma voice makes Chirrut dizzy. “The new leader of the restoration of the Temple of the Whills will be doctor Krennic, the rector of the University. Which means he is in charge of the financial decisions from now on.” Chirrut is struggling to keep his face as blank as possible. The emptiness on the left side is Krennic, he thinks, of course. “The Senate would like to thank you all your work and professional support so far.”

Chirrut swallows hard. “This is the decision of the Senate?” he asks in a more firmer voice he thought he could manage.

“Yes, this is our final decision.”

Chirrut forces an obeying smile on his face. “Than I shall congratulate to doctor Krennic, who is in the room, I suppose.” Somebody clears his throat in confusion, the sound of a sliding chair on the soft carpet and muffled steps hit Chirrut’s ears. He turns toward the sound and reaches out his right hand to feel Krennic’s cold, clammy palm in it. 

“I insisted that you keep your position as the head of inventory and public relations.” Krennic says shaking his hand and tapping his shoulder. “After all, your noble efforts have led us all till this very moment. We are all avere of how this case is important to you, doctor Îmwe.”

“Thank you, doctor Krennic.” Chirrut hopes he could hide the disappointment from his voice.

“Your audition is over. Please wait in the antechamber till the press conference starts.” he bows farewell and he is cast off.

Chirrut doesn’t remember how did he walk out and sit down in the antechamber when he finds himself repeating his mantra ‘I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.’ The words and the cool air of the room slowly calms down his jibbing mind.

He snatches up the head as a smaller door opens in the opposite side of the wall and a small draft runs through his hair.

“Chirrut, sorry for that.” it’s Bail warm voice which is a bit hesitant. “We decided to not impart you this information in advance.” he sits down next to Chirrut.

Chirrut takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh. “You could have told me, I pretended worth things already.”

Bail haws. “Mon was afraid that Krennic will spot it out. He is not stupid.”

“Does Cassian now about it?” probably he is, Chirrut tells to himself. Cassian is the back up, he probably knows.

“Yes, he does. He will tell you the details.” Bail waits for an answer to an untold question but Chirrut doesn’t want to make it easy for him. “You are angry.” Bail says finally.

“I’m disappointed. You promised the support for the Temple.” he turns entirely to Bail.

“We keep the promise. You can continue.” Chirrut just shakes his head in disbelief.

“Without the support of the Senate it will be impossible. Without money the works will stop.” He can hear the whirl of Bail’s clothes. He probably tucked under the wide sleeve of his traditional jedhan tunic.

“Don’t worry about that. Everything is already arranged. A bigger donation will arrive on the fundraising gala.”

Chirrut considers for a moment then shakes again his head. “You’ve just said that Krennic is not stupid. He will know.”

“Not as big..,” assures him Bail. “...but enough. From different sources. So go ahead with the preparations and make a great hit. Visit the potential donators to show Krennic you are playing hard.” and he adds “We shared all the details with captain Andor, he will give you the instruc...the details.” he changes his words when he sees Chirrut’s narrowing eyes. 

Chirrut doesn’t say anything for long moments. They know each other with Bail for more than twenty years now. Chirrut even saved his life once when they were fighting together in the Rogue squad. As he looks back it seems to be a childish game compared to what they are doing now. Or was it Bail who saved him? It was long ago. What is certain that they trust each other completely, hundred percent, without any doubt. Without any doubt?

“Where will this lead, Bail?” Chirrut hears himself asking.

“What do you mean?” Bail presence is confident on his side.

“If I go out there to call the Jedhans to donate for the temple, because the Senate is startled and not willing to support ...it will be a direct call against the First Order. The media is already full of my counter opinion. Despite Kay turns down every journaliste and I comment on nothing, it doesn’t stop them to put my name anyway in their headlines.”

“That’s good.” says Bail after a second “While you are in the spotlight, Cassian can do the job in the background. We have to catch Krennic.” he grabs Chirrut’s arm gently. “Listen, Chirrut, my friend. Any time you wish to back out, you are free to do it.”

Chirruts rises his head up if he would ask the opinion of a higher power above them and looks back to Bail. “Let’s meet with the press.”

“One more thing, Chirrut.” Bail firms his grip on his arm. “I heard Baze Malbus contacted you, is it true?”

Chirrut turns very still. “Yes, it is.” he furrows his brows 

“Do you think, he might…” Bail doesn’t finish the sentence just keeps tight Chirrut’s arm if he was afraid Chirrut will run away if he let it go.

“No.” snaps Chirrut. “He made it clear he is done with all the fight.”

“Baze Malbus?” Bail chuckles, Chirrut would even risk he let his head drop back while doing so. “I can hardly believe that. We could have a well use of an experienced soldier like him.”

Chirrut twists his hand easily out from Bail’s grip. “I don’t want to pull him in this against his will.”

“Of course not.” Bail agrees. “Not against his will.” and these last words leave a bitter taste in Chirrut’s mouth.

 

************************************************

 

Baze watched the short emission of the press conference on the screen of the small television in the corner of the garage after Bodhi pulled him in front of it. He heard that Krennic was nominated as the leader of the restoration and heard Chirrut asking all men and women who believe in that the force of the predecessors make stronger the community to donate. He found that Chirrut was enchanting and persuasive even through the television. He also thought that he was totally upset behind the facade full of charm.

He searched his phone he left in the office and called Chirrut’s number. It rang only three times.

“Chirrut Îmwe speaking.” Chirrut picked it up with a calm voice.

“Hello Chirrut. It’s me, Baze.” he said in the phone. “I heard it on the news. Where are you?”

“I am...in the park next to the Senate Hall.” he said simply.

“The one with the flame trees?”

“Yes, actually I think I’m sitting right under one.”

“Stay there, I’ll find you in about ten minutes.”

Now Baze’s bike is parking in front of the park and he is approaching the slim and dropped shouldered silhouette of Chirrut sitting right where he said, under a bare flame tree whose leaves spread out as a fire-red carpet around the bench.

Chirrut is rolling his cane between his hands. He looks up long before the footsteps of Baze would be audible at all and his lips curve in a tired smile. Baze takes place close next to him touching their thighs, reaches out with both hands and without any ceremony he holds Chirrut’s hand between his. Chirrut doesn’t pull away but relaxes into the touch and folds his fingers around the bigger, warmer palm.

“How do you feel, Chirrut?” Baze asks on his rumbling voice and he doesn’t care at all that it’s full of concern.

“I’ve been better.”chuckles a bit Chirrut and bows his head. “I thought it would be only a formality and I would walk out with the approval of the Senate.” he sighs heavily. “I didn’t even dream, not even in my nightmares, of placing Orson above me in this project.” he shakes his head. Baze doesn’t say anything, he thinks what Chirrut needs now is to be able to talk. He keeps rubbing with his thumb Chirrut’s knuckles in small, gentle circles.

“I don’t know where this all will end.” Chirrut’s voice is heavy and compared to the always clear ringing of his tone now it has barky edges. This barky edge is rare but Baze recognises it anyway. It is doubt. Self doubt more precisely. “I’m not sure what is going on and I feel I trapped in a maze which leads somewhere I don’t want to go. And there is no turning back.” Chirrut rises slightly his head and leans harder against Baze shoulder. He slowly rises his face a little bit more to look on somewhere Baze’s chin. 

“Do you wish to stop?” Baze asks even when he knows the question is absurd.

“Stop? No, I don’t want to stop.” Chirrut now looks straight in Baze’s eyes what makes Baze slowly melt away. “I just want to do the right thing. I want to do what has to be done. As the Force wills it.” 

“I am here...with you. To help.” says Baze very slowly. “If that still matters to you.”

“It always did.” Chirrut rubs his cheek gently against his shoulder and his voice is muffled by Baze’s jacket. “It’s good that you are here with me.”

Baze leans close enough to Chirrut for his lips to brush his ear as he speaks. “I was always with you, even when I was far away.” 

Baze puts a finger under Chirrut’s chin and tilts his head up to cup his cheek in his palm. Chirrut’s breath is warm under his thumb as Baze brushes slowly his parting lips. Chirrut’s lashes throw a light shadow under his half-closed eyes and Baze’s stomach turns over as he bents and covers Chirrut’s mouth with his own. Chirrut melts into the kiss, breath hot and desperate in Baze’s mouth. 

His lips aren’t as soft as Baze remembers, not as soft as of a twenty year old young boy. These are the lips of a man, still soft but more gritty and brave. Baze blood turns hot when he feels that they are still hungry. He slides his tongue over the ridiculous gums that dominates Chirrut's smile to find Chirrut’s body pressing against his chest like a shivering, hot mass of muscles. Baze deepens the kiss, delving inside in smooth, rhythmic sweeps and Chirrut replies with soft moans he doesn’t seem aware of.

When he finally breaks away, they are both breathing hard. Chirrut fingers are clinging tightly in the fabric of Baze’s jacket and Baze is still cupping Chirrut’s face running his thumb over his cheek. Chirrut lits up a smile and leans into his touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think NOW of Cassian and Chirrut?


	9. Chapter 9

Jyn is sitting on prof Îmwe’s couch in the office to discuss the details of the gala. She is so excited. The gala will be much bigger and more exclusive as she ever imagined. When she joined the preparations it was already seemed to be a great event, but about a week ago prof Îmwe changed his mind and came up with the most incredible ideas she ever heard. He said he wants the gala to be ‘the party of the year’. 

He canceled the speech of the mayor, cut the time given to professor Krennic and asked two celebrities to speak about their connection to Jedha. He said he wants caviar and fodu in green fire sauce, a dj instead of the band and most importantly he wants the most famous popstar of Jedha to sing before midnight. And who was that? It was Be Yond, the most fantastique, most sexy, most talented, most creative singer, the best dancer in the whole galaxy, who has the most beautiful eyes and smile and _everything_. And is, of course, Jyn’s fav. And she will meet him!  

They called his manager a week ago, but he laughed in their ears: appearance in two weeks? Not possible. They called him every day. Finally yesterday prof Îmwe talked with him, convinced him to pass the phone to Be Yond himself...Jyn doesn’t know what he said, but Be Yond, it’s so good to repeat his name, agreed to come and will come free of charge. They are already checking the details of his appearance. Prof Îmwe is a genious! 

As the rumour spread, other celebrities, who didn’t answered yet to the invitation, all started to give positive feed-backs. Now they are sitting in front of a board doing the review of the seating arrangements with prof Îmwe. 

“We can’t put a table behind a pillar.” says prof Îmwe. “Can we  reposition again the tables?” 

“Let’s see.” sighs Jyn. It’s hopeless but prof Îmwe seems to be the torch of light of power of will and Jyn learned already he never gives up until he finds a solution. “Perhaps if we cut half the open space in front of the stage?” she sighs again. 

“No, I’m sure you and most of the guests want to dance and jump right in front of that singer…” Prof Îmwe’s grin grows wider. “What’s his name again?” 

“Be Yond!” answers Jyn with awe. Seating arrangements are devastating, but she is going to meet with Be Yond personally - it worth every suffer! Her phone is ringing, so she picks it up. 

“Hello, Baze!” she glances at prof Îmwe who is fidgeting with the rounded sheets of paper symbolizing the tables. “Yes, it would be nice if you could pick me up, but I don’t know when we are going to finish…” it’s half a question and prof Îmwe nods. 

“Half an hour, I think.” he sais. “It’s late, I will keep you company to the parking.” 

“Did you hear it? In 15 minutes? Ok.” she hangs up. “Thank you, professor Îmwe.” 

“Of course, my dear.” he sighs. “Let’s finish the tables!”

 

***********************************

 

“Hello, Jyn!” as promised prof Îmwe walks with her to the parking where Baze is already waiting. Jyn is happy for that. She would never admit but the campus area is not well lit and especially the parking is scary at night. “Are you finished?” 

“For today.” Jyn gives a kiss on his cheek as he bents down. 

“Hello, Chirrut!” says Baze moving on the other side of Jyn. She gives a strange look to him, even though Baze and prof Îmwe are cradling old grievances, Baze shouldn’t use her as a fence. She decides to tell him that later. “Jyn is telling every day it’s going to be a big hit, the gala.” 

“We have to do our best.” smiles prof Îmwe. “I think our odds are better now, with that singer...Miss Erso, please help me with the name…” 

“ _Be Yond_!” Jyn is rolling her eyes but repeats the name with awe again and prof Îmwe giggles shaking his head. “You know, Baze, you are also welcome.” and Jyn notices that his smile has changed somehow, but she doesn’t linger on that, because she finds prof Îmwe’s idea brilliant. “I thought perhaps...” Jyn doesn’t let him finish, she jumps in.  

“Prof Îmwe, can Baze be my partner on the gala?” Jyn clings on Baze’s arm. 

“Oh, I thought  _ somebody _ already asked you out.” Chirrut still smiles but confused. “I wanted to propose…” he cannot finish not even now as Jyn interrupts him again.

“Nobody asked me out.” she frowns.

“I could go with Jyn.” she hears Baze telling this and she looks at him with surprise,  then clings stronger on his arm. That’s Baze, of course, he cannot deny even that from her. 

“Alright then, perhaps I’ll go with Mr. Andor.” Chirrut says half joking as he turns back towards the sound of the approaching, quick footsteps. Jyn’s heart starts to beat stronger.

 “Yes, you should come with me!” it is Cassian who steps out from the dark of the cold night into the white a circle of a lamp above them. His jacket is open and he tries to catch his breath and that makes Jyn’s knee weaker and her grip on Baze’s arm tighter. “Keyto said you are here. Chirrut, why don’t you answer your phone?” Cassian frowns at him. “All of you! Come on! We found something in the temple. We carried it in the lab.” They just stand there frozen, uncomprehendingly, Baze with raised brows, Jyn still with a dizzy smile and Chirrut with a slowly brightening face.  

“Lead us!” prof Îmwe commands suddenly and Jyn inhales sharply as his words and Baze’s groan break through her pink vision. “What did we found? What is it?” prof Îmwe asks vibrating with excitement. 

“I went to the Temple just an hour ago to check how things are going.” Cassian starts to explain on the way. “I found out that this morning a team could clean out one of the corridors and found a bigger chamber and the entrance of a maze at the other end.” 

“A maze?” gasps Chirrut and Jyn feels her stomach turns as his excitement spreads out to her. When she looks at Baze and their eyes meet she knows Baze feels the same. 

“That’s not all. They say...they say it was just laying there…at the entrance of the maze.” pants Cassian as they rush up the stairs. “I heard this just when I arrived. Krennic didn’t consider it important to let us know.” he makes a ‘tsk’ sound but doesn’t stop. “I told them that you are the head of inventory therefore it had to be treated in the lab and should be included in the inventory by you.”

 “Cassian,..” grabs prof Îmwe Cassian’s arm almost shouting. “What is it? What did we found?” 

“A script, Chirrut.” he opens the door of the lab. “We found a script.”

 Everyone’s eyes turn toward the small table surrounded by two men leaning above a long and plain bowl. Prof Îmwe’s chest is rising and falling with a quick rhythm  and Jyn feels her own body shivering. Without a word they walk directly to the bowl and all of them lean above it. 

“Tell me how does it look like!” prof Îmwe commands again. 

“It’s a beautiful script on a special treated, dipped paper, professor, in a very good condition.” says one of the men. “Very good condition. We don’t even understand how could it stay in such a good state.” Chirrut listens with all of his focus with Jyn looking above his shoulder. “We put it in a protective solution.” 

“Could you already decode the text written on it? Are there letters or signs?”  Chirrut lifts his head, grinning at nothing in particular. 

“It’s written in ancient jedhan. I’ve met with this dialect before, but we couldn’t yet understand it, just some words like ‘guardians’, ‘temple’ and ‘Force’. We need some time, professor.” 

Jyn has never seen a script like that before, it’s not similar to those exhibited in the museum. The paper is darker, like leather, and the beautifully shaped, golden red letters all seem like waving and dancing around. She leans closer and in the same time Cassian bents down so they bump their head together. They look up, both grinning and laughing each other taping their own head. 

“What is this?” prof Îmwe’s voice grabs her attention. He stands with head tilted next to them in front of a thing that looks like a wooden stick with two wheels. 

“Oh, oh!” turns to him one of the archeologist. “The script was rolled up on this wooden carrier.” 

“How does it look like?” prof Îmwe’s voice is like a whisper. “This is wood? Is it decorated?” 

“Yes it is. It’s decorated with gems all along the stick and the side. It’s also in an impeccable condition. Like something has protected them from the time and humidity. Perhaps the dry climate of the chamber or a lack of oxygen. We don’t know yet.” 

It seems that prof Îmwe is muttering something to himself Jyn can’t really hear just some shreds of words, something like _‘Force_ ’, ‘ _moving_ ’, but he speaks aloud. “What does the gems look like? Give me a glove! Please.” prof Îmwe seems to be in a trance. 

“They are clear, light blue, like... ky...krystals.” it’s Baze who answers, Jyn almost forgot he was there. The excitement of discovery and Cassian's proximity are too much to handle.

“Krystals?” it seems prof Îmwe is under a spell. He runs his fingers carefully along the stones and his eyes are sparkling like stars, even Jyn could tell. “It’s wonderful! Do you hear it?” turns prof Îmwe his head toward the ceiling with a grin which Jyn finds a little looney.

 She is not the only one to notice that prof Îmwe is turning a little bit pixied, they all share looks. “Chirrut, what should we hear?” asks finally Cassian puzzled. 

“The smooth ringing, the hum, the buzz. Don’t you hear it? Listen!” prompts them prof Îmwe leaning closer as if he was really listening to something. Jyn bents closer as they all do and...nothing. Jyn hears nothing. “You...you don’t hear anything? You don’t _feel_ anything? Come, take a glove and touch it!” commands again prof Îmwe. 

They all take gloves as they were told and reach out for the surface of the krystal decoration. They all run a careful touch across the surface and they all go very still. Jyn understands why when she touches one of the shiny gem. There is a tingle in the tips of her fingers and a small vibration runs through her hand up on her arm and makes shiver her whole body. Cassian wraps one arm around her shoulder to keep her steady. His eyes are deep like the Universe. 

“The krystals...” prof Îmwe runs again his fingers along the surface of the wood. “Their role and meaning was lost in the destruction of the temple thousands of years ago. Until now, we have only found references to it in other texts.” Jyn looks up and she sees only marvel on the faces. She knows she will never forget this moment. Cassian smiles on her and she feels blushing so she looks over to Baze. Baze has a totally different expression. His face is smooth with awe but he doesn’t look on the script or the gems. His eyes are on prof Îmwe, immersed in the sound of his voice.

Jyn turns back to prof Îmwe. His face is like he was in a dream, and as she watches a wrinkle deepens between his eyebrows and he bows his head. “This is… more than I was ever hoped for. Cassian... “ His breath hitches a little and then he looks up and takes his hand away. “Cassian, Jyn. We have to show this to the people. We have to expose it at the gala!” 

 

****************************************

 

They take their time walking back to the parking. It took more than an hour to secure the find until further investigation and to prof Îmwe to give his instructions Cassian steps in the same rhythm as Jyn, Baze and prof Îmwe are far ahead immersed in a discussion Jyn can’t hear. 

“Are you glad you joined?”  Cassian asks haltingly. “Do you like the task?”‘ _It’s awsome_ ’, Jyn wants to say, but Cassian grabs her arm gently, holding their arms together, wiping out every thought of her mind. Jyn smiles up to him and Cassian smiles back. “I love it very much.” starts Jyn when she finally finds the words. “Especially the gala. I never have imagined that prof Fool is so cool.” 

“Yeah, he definitely has a few tricks up his sleeve.” laughs Cassian and Jyn laughs with him. Doesn’t he have the cutest laugh in the world? Ok, after Be Yond? “Do you have a partner for the gala?” 

Jyn breath hitches and her heart stops to beat. _‘I wanted to go with my dad.’ “_ No, not yet. I’m not...I don’t have any partner.” she falters finally and she feels her face burning. She is blushing again. 

“Would you come with me?” his voice is a bit shaky and Jyn feels her face not hot but burning. 

“Of course, Cassian. I’d love to.” and her smile is a bright, warm light in the cold, dark winter night and she feels the heat pouring off Cassian’s sturdy form by her side. 

Cassian lets her hand go when they reach Baze and prof Îmwe standing next to the car. They both look up from a conversation. “I guess we meet tomorrow, Jyn.” says goodby Cassian. “Chirrut, come on, I give you a ride.” 

“Thank you, Cassian.” this is the first time Jyn hears prof Îmwe saying Cassian and not Mr. Andor. The tone is very familiar. First she doesn’t know why, but then Baze calls her. “Jyn, come on, sweetheart,  it’s late, we should go too.” This is the same tone. Prof Îmwe tells Cassian’s name with the similar kindness as Baze tells her name. It’s worth to keep in mind, she tells herself in the privacy of her head. 

This is not the only thing she notices. “We talk later, Baze.” prof Îmwe turns to Baze with a smile full of affection. This is just the same feeling Jyn saw moments ago on Cassian’s face when he smiled at her. 

 

*********************************

 

“We have to talk, Dad.” her voice is ringing above the hum of the truck Baze drives on the empty streets leaving the narrow streets of the Old Town. “You have secrets.” 

“What? No, I don’t have secrets.” Baze turns up the heating a little bit. 

“Yes, you have!” grins Jyn pulling up her leg to put her ankle on the seat. “You and prof Îmwe…there is something between you.” says triumphantly. 

Baze huffs. “What does make you think that?” his eyes are on the road but Jyn already knows she has right. 

“I just put the mosaics together…” says casually. 

“What mosaics? There are no mosaics, except the ones they might find in the Temple!” Baze growles. 

“Come on! I saw the two of you.” Jyn snickers. “You, with those huge, puppy eyes on prof Îmwe’s lips. And prof Îmwe with _that_ smile he made only for you. He may be my teacher, he may be old but he’s hot and you aren’t bad either. You fit together.”  

“You are imagining things!” frowns Baze with a faint effort to pretend to be serious. “And he is younger than me. So you think _I am_ old?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject, Baze!” Jyn grin becomes bigger. “I saw what I saw.” Baze just keeps staring the road as if their life depended on that. “Dad, it’s ok, I really like him. He is cool, brave and he likes you.” 

“Fine,” Baze sighs heavily. “We shared a kiss. That’s all. Are you satisfied?” 

“More than satisfied!” laughs Jyn and Baze rolls his eyes. “Ok, now tell me! Is he a good kisser? Like he used to be when you were young? Are you dating again? Are you coming together again?” 

“Hey, stop, Jyn.” Baze glances at her than directs his eyes back to the road. “It’s definitely none of your business and we are not dating again. Actually, I don’t know what we are doing.” he pauses for a moment but he continues when Jyn keeps her eyes on her with all the seriousness of eighteen years. “I shouldn’t do this at all. I really shouldn’t have gone even this far.” 

“You are acting like you were guilty.” Jyn is confused. She sighs, it seems relationships aren’t as easy she thought. “Anyway.” she cheers up. “Cassian asked me out for the gala. So you are free and prof Îmwe is free. I let you figure out the rest, but you will need a tuxedo.” 

Baze looks at her to bath in her smile. She is still a little girl, he thinks and wishes that she stays this little girl for a bit longer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, finally, I'm proudly giving you the gala!  
> After a little romance, of course, to let everything fall apart at the end.
> 
> This chap is probably longer than the others, but I'm sure you don't mind...

The bow-tie is very stubborn and Baze’s fingers are too big. He curses under his beard and tries to tie it again. He is going to wear a tuxedo which isn’t comfortable at all and he hates already the tie. Why is he agreed to that at all? Oh, yeah. He asked Chirrut out for the gala. 

Still. The discussion they had over dinner last week - about the Force, of course - was telling and Baze common sense said to him he shouldn’t get any closer to Chirrut again. His heart said something completely different when he saw Chirrut’s brilliant smile whenever he looked back to him. 

They sat in a small but cosy eatery in the Old Town near to the ruins of the Temple. Chirrut was speaking about the efforts they made to explore the maze and his wish to find more items that survived the centuries. He looked very tired but having the time of his life in the same time. 

“It’s so complex, the maze, and is in a very bad condition...” explained Chirrut waving with the fork. “...walls to the ceiling and fallen pieces everywhere, so we cannot send a drone with a camera to map it, we have to find the way through.” he rolled a small amount of pasta around his fork and popped it into his mouth. “Imagine all the things we can find on the other side!” he said, muffled through the pesto. 

“More of that strange crystal?” guessed Baze fumbling with his steak. 

“Perhaps.” Chirrut hand went still with the fork in it. “Did you felt it, didn’t you? The crystals? I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.” he put down the cutlery and rubbed his fingers if he could still feel the energy running through. “Like the Force was pulsing in them.” his eyes were shut and his voice low like a hum of a chant. 

Baze’s mouth turned dry. “Everything is the demonstration of the Force for you.” 

“Yes, it is and no, not everything...but the crystals are.” Chirrut took a breath to let it out with a huff and he seemed to shake off some of the trans he fallen in. “How can you say it’s not the Force, when you felt it yourself?”

 “It’s dangerous to believe that some bigger power makes the stones alive.” Baze heard himself say and pushed a bigger slice of meat in his mouth starting to chew angrily. 

“It’s dangerous - you say.” Chirrut leaned back on his chair and shaked his head. “We’ve been working for that for years. _I_ ’ve been waiting for this for years.” Chirrut’s lips grew thin and taut as he continued. “All my years of study, all the books remained, even the oldest text can’t teach us all the knowledge we can gain just from this scroll and the crystals. And all the things we hope to find. I cannot…” 

He rubbed his face and Baze let him a few moments to recover himself, then he asked “But you and Cassian, you didn’t tell to Krennic what you felt, did you?” 

“I...we… didn’t.” His eyes wrinkled in a little frown and he let his chin drop to his chest. “He saw way before us what we found.” 

“But you didn’t tell him what you _think_ you found.” pointed Baze with his fork.  

“We found a scroll with a holder and a maze.” Chirrut’s voice turned low and hardened, forbidding argument. “That’s what we have found. Now there are strouts put up and we began to clean the path to go in deeper.” His knuckles turned white as he clenched it on the table. 

“You didn’t tell Krennic you feel the Force running in the crystals…” 

Chirrut raised his brows and let out a relieved sigh Baze didn’t understand. “You mean I didn’t tell Krennic about the Force?” Chirrut reached out and Baze met him halfway by reflex, lacing their fingers together. “Krennic is not a believer, like you.” Chirrut said it with a resigne and a smile. 

Baze snorted. “I can imagine this is true, but _I_ felt it. You think Krennic won’t feel the crystals vibrating? He will know those crystals are special somehow.” 

“Somehow? You are speaking about the Force and not the…?” Chirrut blinked with surprise. One moment later, his expression changed, as if he understood something Baze did not.  “You don’t believe in the Force, anymore, but you know it.” he squeezed his hand comfortably.  “You know the Force exists, floats arounds us, guides us and connects us, even if you refuse to believe in it. “ 

“It’s not the Force, Chirrut. It’s just us. Our decisions guides us and our acts connects us. Not an invisible superpower.” he said bluntly, though he tightened his grip on Chirrut’s hand like his life depended on it. 

Chirrut placed his other hand on his with an introspective face and sighed. “It’s allright. We don’t need to have the same opinion.” 

Baze looked down to their hands bounded on the table. Why couldn’t he let go this man from his life? How many years has passed? Twenty? And still they were sitting there hand in hand  _ and _ fighting. What does that mean? Fighting for what exactly?

  
He pulled back his own hand from the warm bundle they made and straightened his back. “Maybe there are too many things where we don’t have the same opinion.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Chirrut tilting his head with the wrinkle deepening between his eyebrows. 

“Cassian asked Jyn out for the gala.” Baze rushed out to earn a tinkling laughter from Chirrut. 

“Finally.” smirked Chirrut. “I thought he will never ask her.” 

“It seems you know him well.” Baze couldn’t believe he said that. Is he really still jealous to Cassian? The relation between them is so irritating, but he couldn’t figure out why. 

Chirrut didn’t answer, it seemed he is turning the words in his head. “I know him since his freshman year at the University. I am his... mentor almost eight years now.” His voice is soft and warm, without any resent, it twists Baze’s heart anyway. 

“This is far more time than we spent together…” Baze couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice. 

Chirrut lifted his eyes in Baze’s direction if he had seen his face, if he had been able to trace his feelings. “I know him longer, yes, but I know you better, Baze.” he said quietly. “What do you want to say?” 

“I might have changed in a way you wouldn’t like.” he pulled himself smaller and his voice was hoarse, like it was painful to admit it. 

“I might have also changed in a way you wouldn’t like.” Chirrut reply was firm. “But we cannot be sure. I would like to know how did you change, Baze. If you would show me.” with the last words he placed his hand palm up on the middle of the table, waiting for Baze to hold it. 

Baze was staring on it for a long moment then he looked around. They sat in a booth tucked away in the corner, half hidden from curious eyes. The place wasn’t close to the University but there were still some students. Baze considered that those few who wanted to gossip about Chirrut had done it long ago and payed no more attention so he made a quick decision. 

Instead of holding Chirrut’s hand he rounded the table and slided into the cheap leather seat next to Chirrut. Before he could protest or even understand what is happening Baze took him in his arms, one hand on the small of his back and the other on his cheek. 

“I want to get to know you. Again.” the whisper ghosted over Chirrut's uptilted chin when Baze bended for a kiss. Baze parted his mouth just a fraction, to cradle the bow of Chirrut’s upper lip in his own. Chirrut gasped then opened his lips and received him in fullness. Baze wanted to take his breath away so he was relentless and tender. He sweetly lapped Chirrut’s lips, drinking in his taste, sounds, exhales, drinking in him  entirely. 

Chirrut moaned softly and wound his arms tight around Baze’s neck kissing back, licking inside to swallow down his tongue, but Baze pushed him against the wall of the booth sweeping gently with his tongue and Chirrut was already falling into pieces under Baze’s kiss. When Baze parted their lips he was satisfied with the mess Chirrut turned into in a few  minutes, his eyes shut, flushed cheeks and pink lips parted, gasping for air. “Can I be your partner for the gala?” 

Chirrut eyes popped wide open. “I thought you'd never ask!” he said laughing, fingers still clenching in Baze’s shirt. “You will need a tuxedo!” he smiled and Baze just rolled his eyes. 

“Why is everybody telling me that?” 

 

************************************

 

Jyn and Cassian was busy all day with the last touches. Jyn came home to put on her dress, Cassian picked her up and now Baze is following them. Chirrut said it’s enough to arrive about eight. The fundraising gala takes place in the library of the University. Baze has a VIP place reserved in the parking but he isn’t prepared for the crowd awaiting him. The Old Yard he has to cross is packed now with journalist and with those who want to stare the celebrities of Jedha, who are still coming one after the other, getting out from fancy limos, walking on the red carpet, posing for pictures and giving short interviews. Baze recognises some of them as he climbs the stairs without anybody caring about him, except the guards at the main gate who carefully examine his invitation card. 

If he thought the red carpet was something special he forgets it in a second after getting inside. The cavalcade of tuxedos and colourful dresses is already overwhelming, not to mention the mixing scent of perfumes. It worries him a little how intimidating this is for him but he continues his way and climbs the inner stairs with quick steps to let his face fall when he arrives at the top. 

He knew it’s supposed to be a big party but had he known it would be _this_ big of an event he might have thought twice coming. The big hall of the library is overloaded. Despite its enormous size it feels not big enough. The tables occupy a big part of the place and the pillars are preventing a clear view of the remaining area. There are people _everywhere._ Guests are chatting at the door, searching their seats in the narrow paths between tables, climbing up the stairs to the gallery and clustering next to the stone railing. 

It seems his military instincts are still alive, Baze flicks his eyes from corner to corner to notice a few guards standing around, near to the entrances and next to some of the pillars, but they’re just looking around casually, like it was an ordinary day at the library. Baze can hardly get a few steps inside breaking through the noise of conversations, laughters, soft music and clinking glasses when it becomes clear that Chirrut’s promise will turn out to be true: this will be “the party of the year”. 

There are dozens of men rushing in from every corner in the traditional tunic of tang-gu drummers to take their places next to the huge instruments Baze haven’t even noticed until this moment. The noises are shrinking and the drummers begin to play. Their phenomenal skill is not exactly a dance, not precisely a music and not solely a spectacle, it’s the combination of all three. The unrelenting decibel level fills the place with breathtaking rhythms. 

After the last beat they just turn on their hills and march out followed by applause and somehow everybody knows that this is the time to take their places at the tables. Baze almost starts to panic not having any idea where his seat supposed to be, when a familiar voice hits his ears. 

“Baze, just in time!” Jyn grabs his hand pointing through the crowd. “There we are, at the first table, Cassian and Prof Îmwe. Come!” and she pulls him after her to the front where Chirrut and a man, who seems familiar to Baze, are bending their heads together immersed in a conversation. When they reach them Jyn whispers something in Chirrut’s ear and he turns with a glamorous smile full of gums. 

“Baze, I’m glad you are here! Welcome!” he squeezes Baze’s arms warmly. Baze squeezes back and in the same moment he registers what Chirrut is dressed in. 

“What the _hell_ are you wearing, Chirrut?” Baze manages instead of a greeting.  

Chirrut smile grows wider than his face as he slides his fingers along his jacket. “It turns heads, isn’t it?” Baze can’t stop staring the most showy, hokum and ornate thing he has ever seen. Chirrut wears a black shirt under a tuxedo which isn’t black but blue, patterned with huge flowers made of shiny, black spangles and of course slim trousers. 

“It definitely turns mine.” he says but he can think on only one word: _fop_. He smiles, this is Chirrut’s night after all and he looks dashing anyway.    

Fanfares give the sign it’s time to settle down. At the time they take their seats the light dims and the reflectors illuminate the stage. The man, who Chirrut was speaking with, is on the stage. Now Baze recognises him, he is an actor, a comedian. He tells a funny opening monologue as the host of the evening and calls for doctor Krennic to open the gala. After Krennic’s surprisingly interesting and witty speech champagne is served with some appetizers and the noise of conversations fill the room again, a bit louder owing to the drinks. 

There’s a quick round of introductions by the table. There is of course Jyn and Cassian, the mayor, his wife and their lovely daughter, a renowned city-man with his too blond partner and doctor Krennic. There is no place for deep conversations as the comedian is up again on the stage to continue the show and the waiters serve more drinks. Two celebrities are speaking about their connection to the city of Jedha, one of them is heartbreaking and the other one is hilarious. They are followed by a short holo-film about the story of the Temple of the Whills. 

The mood slowly becomes more and more informal at their common table. They are sharing small smiles, passing some pleasantries, Jyn leans her back casually against Cassian’s chest and Chirrut puts a hand on his knee under the table. Only Krennic is sitting there with a lemon face but Baze can’t care less. He starts to having a good time. After a light tap on his knee Chirrut disappears leaving his folded cane on the table only to materialise next to the comedian. 

“Good evening, it’s good to have you all here this evening!” Chirrut’s voice is ringing clear and warm. The reflectors make the spangles on his jacket sparkle as he moves around on the stage to further emphasize his words. “This gala has always been an important event in the life of our city, but tonight, for the very-very first time, we are more than 500!” applause follows his words and he makes a serious face. “And most of us bought the ticket to raise the found.” his joke is well taken, a roar of laughter follows it. “We have a lots of first time happenings tonight and speaking about that, for those who are here for the first time, I have to tell this is an event where it is customary to tip the host. After all, this is the main purpose of the evening.” 

Chirrut continues his talk in this casual and pleasant manner with ease and Baze thinks absently that Chirrut has an inborn skill to charm the audience. “We are asking for your money every year. Yes. And every year we ask for more.” Chirrut’s words are slipping through his wandering thoughts. “But, ladies and gentlemen, tonight...tonight you can see that your donations are well placed. Tonight...tonight we are not only asking but sharing. You are the one to see it first in the whole galaxy.” the lights fade almost to full darkness giving even more attention to Chirrut. “An artefact recently explored in the ruins of the temple.” there is only one reflector remains holding Chirrut in its circle and Baze can feel the tension of curiosity growing high under the dome of the hall. 

“Ladies and gentlemen…” rises Chirrut his voice and suddenly a deep, droning sound is filling the air and some more roaring, buzzing sound follows it soon, turning the heads around, as Chirrut continues his teasing. “...I proudly present a scroll that survived centuries... to tell us the story of two guardians,... two sword brothers...who sacrificed their lives for their faith.” Baze holds his breath back, as does everybody in the room. The lights slowly illuminate a gate opening to the adjoining hall and the half dozen men blowing the five meter long horns. 

The crowd rises with awe to saunter through the exposition of amphores, coins, replicas of ancient robes and other artifacts to reach the scroll presented under a protective glass at the other end of the room. The scroll is rolled on its holder but the crystal décoration still shines at its edges. Baze has to admit, as everyone around him, that the show has been really spectacular. He notices, even being enchanted, the guards who keep their eyes on the scroll from the shadow and the cover of the pillars. 

The evening quickly escalates into a party where everybody is eating, drinking, dancing and having fun. After pestering a bit Jyn, Baze rises from the table to search for Chirrut. He fights a path through the guests who are all over the place, trying not to step on anybody’s foot. A few circles later he spots out Chirrut’s slim figure surrounded by a group of women with hungry eyes. Baze steps behind him and clears his throat. Chirrut quickly says his apologies and turns to Baze with a relieved smile. “Here, you are! You found me!” Chirrut says, pitching his voice for Baze’s ears and reaches out for Baze’s arms comfortably. 

“I would find you anywhere in this show-off tuxedo.” he leans a bit for Chirrut can hear him better. “I can’t wait for you to take it off.” he bits his bottom lip threatened by his own boldness especially when he sees the surprise on Chirrut’s face and his mouth forming a small ‘oh’. 

His heart beats with relief when that mouth quickly curves into a wicked smile and Chirrut says “Baze Malbus, if I don’t know you, I might think you're flirting with me!!” 

“Oh, I’m just nervous.” laughs Baze “This is my first time…” 

“Really? It seems I have other memories… “ It feels so natural that he hardly notices the way Chirrut’s searching touch runs down on his arm and turns into a hand in his. 

“Being on a gala, you fool!” he holds Chirrut’s hand a little tighter, and is rewarded when he feels a gentle squeeze back. 

Their private moment doesn’t last long, it seems everybody is craving for Chirrut’s attention. For Baze’s tribulation Chirrut drags him along and introduces him to lots of well-known citizens, there are thousands of pictures are taken of Chirrut with him on his side and Baze strives to keep up, to smile and to chat politely with complete strangers. 

He reaches his limit of social needs so he grabs the opportunity when he sees Jyn approaching. “Jyn, save me, please!” Jyn giggles and turns to him. It seems the only place where they can have a little privacy, it's the dance floor. “I’m even willing to dance for that.” Baze says with a resigned sigh. 

Jyn’s eyes open wide. “You can dance? You were hiding that from me all that time?” 

Baze is lucky, the DJ plays a slow song. He looks down at Jyn and he just can’t believe. Where did that little girl, with those big baby eyes go? Now, he is holding a young lady in his arms, in a black dress, full of smile and trust for the future. Baze feels that his chest might be not enough big to shelter his heart. She is not _his_ daughter but he couldn’t be more proud if she was. He can’t wipe down the smile spreading out on his face. Not even when Cassian steps by their side at the end of the song asking if he could have the next dance.  

Baze puts Jyn’s hand in Cassian’s and looks around again to find Chirrut. He is just in the opposite side of the exposition hall standing with the mayor and others. He spots him out in the same time he sees a small grenade rolling between the legs of the dancers. Without any warning the garnet blows up covering in dense smoke the area in front of the stage. Baze can hear the small blasts of other smoke-bombs and feel the peppery, bitter smell in his nose. As he looks up he notices with disbelief there are men breaking through the library's glass dome, slipping down to the floor on ropes. They are all dressed in black wearing a gas-mask. 

Through his tears forced out by the biting smoke he sees the same thing happening in the other hall. The party turns into panic in an instant, screaming and shouting replaces the music and glass shatters overhead. Their trio is already jostled and trampled by the terrified crowd who tries to find the way toward the exits through the thickening smoke. 

Baze feels Jyn wince next to him. “Take her out!” he shouts on Cassian looking in his eyes realising Cassian have just said the same. Baze glances at Jyn than back to the place when he saw Chirrut a minute ago surrounded by many, to find that he is standing now all alone with an alarmed and focused expression trying to figure out what is happening. His muscles are tense, cane pressed against his chest. He looks lost, trying desperately to find any sound he could lean on in the middle of the clamor heaving around him. 

Baze turns completely in the direction of the hall attached ready to take an action when he understands they’ve been hesitating for too long. There are some more men bursting through the glass roof and sliding down on a rope with high speed, one of them just above Chirrut’s head. To make space for his landing he shoves both of his feet with sheer power into Chirrut’s chest. Somehow the space between them has grown, flooded with rushing and failing bodies appearing and disappearing. Baze heart fills with terror when he sees in the wreathing smoke Chirrut’s body float in the air with arms open and he would swear he could hear the crash when Chirrut's skull smashes into the marble staircase framing the center of the other room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning and spoiler.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Finally they "sleep" together.  
> If you don't want to read that just skip the last part.

Baze blinks painfully, refusing to believe what he saw until Jyn cries out. Somebody jerked her hard as they buffeting like ships in a gale and she instinctively clings on his arm. He gains back his composure to the touch. “Cassian, take care of Chirrut! I take Jyn out and I’ll come back for you!”

Cassian quickly shoulders his way shoving people off his way toward Chirrut’s inert body while Baze lets himself float with the flood of people holding Jyn firmly against him. They get out quicker than he thought and he growls deep in his chest when he realises that there is nobody to give direction to the panic-stricken crowd. There is no sign of guards.

“Are you alright, Jyn?” he asks taking her shoulder when they hit the bottom of the main stairs of the library.

Jyn nods and taps his arms. “Yes, yes, I’m ok. Go get prof Îmwe and Cassian out!” she pleads. Her earlier enthusiasm long ago drained away to dread.

He shoves his way against the crowd still welling down the inner staircase. In the great hall the smoke now is thick, impenetrable and choky. Baze still bumps into some lost, tumbling guests. As he navigates between the tables toward the other gate his lungs fills with the smoke forcing him to cough.

The shattered scene of the event is otherwise empty. The intruders disappeared in thin air same as, Baze presumes, the most valuable artifacts from the exposition. He needs to find Chirrut and Cassian. The smoke is dense. He has to reach out his arm to navigate, still he trips over tipped chairs and broken plates. “Cassian, Cassian!” he manages to shout between two fit of coughing.

“Here, I’m here!” comes the muffled voice of Cassian from the direction where Baze presumes the entrance to the exposition. He almost slips on something he cannot recognise. It’s seems to take forever to reach Cassian. His breath is shortening and his lungs are aching already. Cassian managed to drag out Chirut unconscious body halfway and now he is kneeling next to him, gasping for air and choking on coughing.   
  


Baze thinks it's a miracle that he has been able to carry him even that far. He is much stronger than Cassian, the easiest way is to throw Chirrut across his shoulders and push the gasping Cassian by his arm in front of him. He cannot see because of the spiky tears filling his eyes, rolling down on his cheek and his lungs are clenched by iron clasps almost making impossible to breath when they reach the bottom of the stairs.

Strong hands takes the weight of Chirrut’s body off his shoulders, pushes him back to the ground when he tries to follow him and his face is forced into an oxygen mask. The first inhalation makes him understand he was not far from fainting because of the efforts and the lack of air. He still wants to follow Chirrut who was dragged away from him but a small and cool hand finds his. “It’s okay, Dad. Cassian is with him in the ambulance.” Jyn whispers with chattering teeth, a blanket covering her back. Baze finally feels safe to close his eyes for a moment.

 

 

**********************************************

 

 

They need to take a little bit of blood to run some tests, they need to make an X-ray of his lungs, he should stay in bed. All the things the doctor and nurses say but he just waves them off giving  _ that _ look to make them leave him alone. Of course Jyn needs the tests, needs the X-ray and all kinds of things the hospital can offer so he tells her to stay put and do as the nurse say. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care except one thing.

There is chaos in the ER. The waiting area is full with people in party dress, the reception desk is a mess, worried family members are trying to have some info from the doctors and nurses running up and down. Just like him. Nobody knows where Chirrut is and Cassian doesn’t reply to his calls. Finally a younger man at the reception desk points to a far corner covered by the blue curtain of the hospital. His heart is heavy as he hurries to get closer.

“I want to go home” he hears a weak but familiar voice a few steps from the curtain and he sighs with relief.

“Master Îmwe,” it’s Cassian’s voice however the invocation is unusual. At least he is alright, Baze thinks. One less thing to worry about. “Listen to the doctor, you should stay here.”

Baze reaches the curtain, opens it to step inside. Everybody looks at him and Cassian says aloud for Chirrut’s sake. “Mr. Malbus! Are you alright?”

“Yes, I'm ok. What’s going on?” he growls.

“As I said to Mr. Îmwe,” the doctor replys in a tired voice, “ _ doctor _ Îmwe,...” he glances quickly in his papers. ”...he has a third grade concussion, very serious. He has to stay in the hospital and wait to see if there are any more symptoms.”

“And I said” sighs Chirrut on a low and powerless voice “I want to go home.” Cassian and the doctor sigh almost in the same time and Chirrut lets out an angry huff. He seems to be small and somehow broken on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His black shirt is completely out of place and the colour of his tuxedo pants ridiculously matches with the bed-sheet. The noises and the smell is too much even for him and Baze knows how much Chirrut hates if he is not able to use his own senses and has to rely on others.

“Is there anybody to take care of you if, by any chance, we let you go home?” the doctor’s voice is lacking emotions.

Chirrut swallows hard. “No, I live alone.”

“What does it mean?” Baze hears his own voice. “What does it mean, taking care of him?” Chirrut turns his head towards him with a little smile but quickly turns it back toward the ceiling blinking. He must be dizzy.

“He has to stay in bed, moving his head as little as possible in ninety percent of the time, at least for a week. Staying in bed means, literally, in the same place, not moving, not sitting up and not going anywhere.  _ And _ sleep a lot. Well, the medicine will help that. So it means rest, lot of rest.” he takes a pause. “The best place for him is the hospital, whether he likes it or not.”

“No, it’s ok.” Baze steps closer to Chirrut to hold his slightly shaky hand. “If it’s ok for you, Chirrut, I take you to my place. It won’t be as familiar as your own house, but at least it’s not the hospital.” Chirrut just squeezes his hand for confirmation as he still struggling with the vertigo.

“Ah, ok. Whatever.” the doctor resigns. “We have to make a CT, and if it’s ok, I discharge him with the prescriptions. And I will give you some stronger medicine...” he turns to Chirrut.  “...for the way home.” and he disappears.

It takes a while for Baze to finish with all the paperwork, pick up all the pills and gather Jyn. Cassian waits for them next to the little, curtained corner.

“Mr. Malbus” he stands up. “I...I would like to say thank you for coming back for us, not leaving us behind. Even though it was for Master Îmwe, it’s really appreciated.”

‘ _ Master  Îmwe? How many names he has? _ ’ Baze’s tired mind wonders. To tell the truth he could weep from relief and in the same time he is a little bit sick to his stomach. “You are welcome, son. You are right, it was mostly for Chirrut’s sake.” and when he sees Cassian mouth go thin, he adds. “And I say this, because I’m sure, you would never need me to come to rescue. You can take care of yourself.”

“I heard that one!” the laughing voice makes Baze smile what quickly freezes on his face when he steps behind the curtain.

Chirrut is still on the bed, still pale and still stares at the ceiling. But. There is a strange grin on his face. Baze looks back at Cassian who just shrugs and smiles. “Don’t look at me! You volunteered!”

“Baze…” Chirut reaches out for him sounding blurry. Baze offers his hand. “I donno what they gave t’me...bu’…. it’s really…. ffffucking good!” his smirk goes wider and Baze covers his face.

  
  


******************************************

 

Vegetables slices cover the counter. Onion, carrot, tomato, celery, sweet potato. This will be a nice soup for a late dinner or supper. He’ll see. The house is quiet. Jyn is still at the University, Bodhi takes care of the garage and Chirrut is in his bed. Not the way he imagined, or tried hard not to imagine, in the last few months. Still. Chirrut is sleeping in  _ his bed. _ The knife stops in his hand.

It was dawn when they arrived home the day before. He asked Cassian to bring Jyn in his car to let them a little privacy. He blessed his decision afterwards. Chirrut said only one thing in the car, melting together the edges of his words. “They took the scroll. Baze, they took it.” and knocked out totally during the road. If it weren’t for Cassian, he wouldn’t have been able to drag him up to the bedroom. As easily he flang out from the library carrying Chirrut and half of the weight of Cassian a few hours earlier, as strengthless he felt at that moment. After Cassian left, the exhausted Jyn went to her room and he arranged as much as he could around Chirrut, he dozed out on the couch of the living room.

Chirrut slept through almost the whole day. His medication said that he need to take it when he has a headache or vertigo, but no more than four times a day. Baze considered, none of them can happen while he is asleep, so he didn’t bothered to wake him up for that but popped his head regularly to check on him.

Chirrut woke up late in the afternoon. With a faint smile he said he was not hungry but asked for a pill. After he took it he decided to go to the bathroom and he insisted to have  a shower. When Baze protested, he said ninety percent of bedrest means he has the right to take a good shower.

It was obvious immediately that he wasn’t able to stand on his own feet, Baze had to help him. He tried hard to really give a hand and not just stare at his muscled body, his six-pack abdominals, toned legs and...well...every other part of him.  It turned out it wasn’t a good idea to take the medicine  _ before _ taking a shower. He had to almost carry Chirrut back to bed and he fell asleep long before his head touched the pillow.

They spent another quiet night and it’s almost eleven in the morning. He should check him again. A little tea won’t hurt, he brings two mugs with him. If Chirrut still sleeps he will let one of them next to the bed and he drinks the other one quietly in the armchair in front of the window. This time he is lucky, Chirrut is awake. He rolls in the bed toward the sound of opening door and lits up an almost dazzling smile. “Baze!”

“Hey, you are awake!” he places one mug next to the bed. “How do you feel, Chiry?” he doesn’t even realise he uses the old name. I brought you some tea. Can you sit up to drink?”

“I’m okay. Maybe later I will drink some.” He taps the bed next to him and Baze carefully sits down.

“Cassian said, it was you, who pulled me out yesterday. Thank you.” he places one hand on Baze’s thigh. “And thank you for having me.”

“Of course, Chiry.” sips Baze from the tea. It’s hot and sweet but not hotter or sweeter than Chirrut’s touch on his skin. “It’s mostly for my sake. If you are here I don’t have to spend my days wandering in the hospital.  _ And _ it was two days ago.” he takes Chirrut’s hand and runs his thumb over Chirrut knuckles.

“Really? I slept through a whole day?” he furrows his brows. “What time is it then?”

“It’s almost eleven o’clock in the morning.” Baze sighs. “I’m making a soup. Do you want to take a pill? You should rest until dinner is ready.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t know if it was the pill or my head that stroke me out yesterday after the shower...but I don’t want to sleep right now.” he slides his hand higher on Baze’s thigh.

“I think both of them.” Baze offers gripping stronger his hand and they sit in a comforting silence for a while.

“You know,” Chirrut’s voice is low. “..I remember what you said me on the gala.”

“Hm? I said lot of things during the gala.”

“You said you can’t wait to take down my show-off tuxedo.” Chirrut’s face turns rosy around his shy smile, and his long lashes shade his pale-blue eyes. “I think, that part is done. Even if I don’t remember how did we do it.” he says with a mischievous grin.

Heat rushes through Baze to settle in the pit of his spine and he lets his eyes slip down on the perfect skin above Chirrut’s collarbone and ribs which are not covered by the blanket. He swallows hard. “Unfortunately, Cassian saved your fussy tuxedo.” Chirrut chuckles. “And you have a concussion, you must not move too much.”

“Well, that is the reason I didn’t sit up and crawled into your lap, yet.” he opens his fingers and squeezes Baze’s thigh.

A deep rumble rises in Baze’s chest on the idea. “You’re injured, Chirrut. You need to rest. Perhaps drink some tea.”

Chirrut grin fades away. “Ah. Alright. I thought...” he tries to pull back his hand but Baze holds it tight and rises it to put a small kiss on the top.

“Don’t get me wrong...” Baze sighs and tries to think despite of the blood that rushes out from his head to somewhere else in his body. “You need to heal.”

“Lay with me!” Chirrut’s voice is low and heavy. “I need to feel you, Baze.”  

Baze huffs and closes his eyes. “I want to feel you too, Chiry!” The words are melting caramel on his tongue and they open something that was pushed on the edge of his mind and forced to be forgotten a long time ago. When Chirrut laughs at him he just pulls off his shirt and crawls under the blanket.

“This is much better.” Chirrut says. His body is warm and soft under the layers of muscles. He rubs his cheek and forehead into Baze’s chest like a cat and nestles himself in the embrace. Baze holds him close and places his chin on the crown of his head. “You feel so good, Baze. You smell so good.” purrs Chirrut. He fits in his arms perfectly like their curves and edges had been carved that way and they just relax folding around each other.

Baze runs his fingers on the two starbird scarred on Chirrut’s shoulder and can’t help to his heart growing bigger than his chest could hold. He traces his hand on his back, casually slips it down to stop at Chirrut’s waist and squeezes it gently. Chirrut moves in the touch, one leg slips between both of Baze's, and just like that, Baze repositions himself, to avoid having to move Chirrut’s head. The kiss is so gentle, that Chirrut doesn’t even realise at first. Then Baze parts his mouth to trace Chirrut’s upper lip with a feather-light touch, he sucks in his lower lip and Chirrut gasps.

The moments pour as golden honey. Baze gently touches his tongue to Chirrut’s waiting mouth. His lips are soft, hot and Baze tastes his mouth again and again, barely dipping his tongue inside with gentle sweeps. Chirrut melts in the touch and moans with sweet, unconscious sounds. When they finally broke apart he is dazed, breathes shakily through his parted lips.

Baze holds him tight while he runs his fingers on Baze’s face, to find the deep scar next to his eye. “What is this?” he asks.

Baze forces back the awaking memories. He doesn’t want to remember in this syrupy sweet moment. “It’s from a shrapnel.” he says briefly. Chirrut hums an acceptance and continues to discover, to see and understand the changes on his body and asks questions. He traces down on his arm, lifts his hand to walk it down on his shoulder blade, his spine to the small of his back to find every scar. He feels the skin covering his ribs and digs his fingertips in the flesh of his belly. “It was a knife...a rifle...a hand-grenade.” Baze murmurs explication in his mouth every time at any asperity he pauses.   
  


Chirrut’s suckes in a breath and stiffens when he traces along a tiny, rounded wound, marked by a bullet, over his heart. Baze catches his hand. “Yes, that was close.” he whispers. Chirrut inhales deeply and he is on him, crushing their mouth together, sucking, biting, swallowing, possessing and demanding desperately.  Chirrut clings to him like a drowning man.

Baze palms the top of Chirrut’s thigh to direct it on his waist, smoothing eager up and down the the crease of it. A choked gasp jumps from Chirrut's throat when Baze splays his hands wide, grabs him by the hips and pulls so that their bodies melds together. All he can focus on is the way Chirrut’s hip moves in small circles grinding their erections together.

“Chirrut…” he gulps for air and tries to remember over the haze of desire what he wanted to say. “Chirrut... are you... how do you feel?”

“I’ve never felt better.” he laugh in his mouth and adds to calm Baze’s hesitation. “Seriously, I’m alright.” and pleads “Please, don’t stop.”

“Ok.” he presses a small kiss on his cheek. “But, let me do all the work.”

“I don’t mind…” Chirrut practically purrs again and sends heat down Baze's spine “...at all if you work on me!” Baze quiets him running his thumb on his lips and Chirrut takes it in his mouth needily. The wet, warm suction around his finger makes Baze’s head spin. Chirrut has always been impatient and heated as he but Baze learned self-control during the years which he wants to practice now.

He leans down and slips his tongue in Chirrut’s mouth next to his thumb and Chirrut moans. He marks with kisses Chirrut’s jaw, finds his way down his throat, nibbles and bites along his collarbones than traces his wet thumb down to his hip bone. Chirrut back curves beautifully against the bed and Baze holds this arch with strong hand lapping his ribs until the waistline of his too big,  dangerously low slipped briefs, borrowed from Baze.

Inhaling shakily through his mouth Chirrut whines “You became... such a tease!”

“You like it, don’t you?” Baze asks tucking the waist of the shorts barely down to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock sinking as down as he can go in one slow swallow. The sudden hot of his mouth yanks a groan from Chirrut's chest. Baze's tongue lolls against the underside of his cock to wrap a hand around the base, gripping, sucking and swallowing in steady rhythm.

As Baze remembers, Chirrut always used a higher pitched, luscious voice during their private moments to fuel a little bit more Baze, even with the sounds he made. But now it has changed, Baze notices. Chirrut’s moans are deep and uncontrolled, revealing purely himself, as they vibrate through Baze body to build a sweet agony in his cock.

Chirrut slides his fingers into Baze’s hair, brushes it back behind his ear, thumb tracing Baze’s cheek feeling every move of Baze mouth around his own shaft. “Come, Baze!” he is pulling Baze up guided by the demanding grip on the back of his skull. “Come, Baze, let me feel you!” Baze is already kneeling up to work his sweatpants off his thighs than leans above Chirrut bracing on his elbows. He rubs gently together their groins, and the drag of their swollen cock, skin on skin, provides a maddening counterpoint to the sweet kiss. Chirrut’s flat belly heaves for breath and his feet slide up, rubbing against Baze’s calf.

Chirrut reaches up to cradle his cheek. “Uhm...please, stop for a moment.” he pants.

Baze goes very still and searches his face with worry. “You’re not well.” Baze presses his big, rough hand to his waist to sooth him.

“It’s okay, it passed already.” Chirrut pulls him closer with hands and legs.

“We shouldn’t have started in the first place.” Baze says with guit.

“I’ve been waiting for this so long!” Chirrut whispers hoarsely in his mouth. “I need to feel you!” Baze feels heat and blood slam into him in waves.

He gives time to Chirrut, kissing him gently. He reaches their forehead together to stabilise him with the weight of his own head while Chirrut entwines him like vines. After an impatient thrust of Chirrut’s hip, Baze works his hand between them and palms his beautifully leaking shaft.  “Mggh...hmm…” Chirrut pants for air.

“I dreamed about you.” says Baze shuddering as he stroke him in a steady rhythm

“What… mfff...what did you dream about me?” he rubs his palm against Baze’s cheek and chest, again and again, with strong but unconscious moves.

Baze closes his eyes.  “That you are in my arms…”

“I am...in your arms…” gasps Chirrut.

“And you are mine…” the words torn out from his chest roaring like thunder.

Chirrut hitches the air and repeats with a shaken exhalation “And... I am…. yours…” his last word is lost in a gasp to transform into a long, helpless moan emerging from his throat when he comes. Baze pulls the orgasm out of him with firm hand and Chirrut’s entire body trembles by spasm after helpless spasm.

Baze licks his lips as Chirrut’s hands loosen their grip and laughs without a sound. He rolls next to Chirrut to put wet and lazy kisses everywhere on his face. Chirrut slowly turns over and his clever fingers quickly finds his swollen and neglected cock to grip it. For a moment Baze feels like melting away in golden light. He wishes to draw this moment out and make it last forever but the devastating moves Chirrut manages with the twist of his wrist, the tug of his grip and the massage of his fingers lift the pleasure inside him like hot lava. These moves are also new from Chirrut, worth to learn them further. ‘ _ Next time...’ _ The line of Baze’s thoughts cuts as Chirrut whispers against his throat.

“I dreamed of you, too, you know.” his voice pushes him closer to the edge, he cannot reply just gulp for air.  “That you are made for my pleasure…” he speeds up and Baze groans brokenly when Chirrut bites his throat. “...and all the things you let me do to you.”

“Chiry...Chirrut!” Baze comes violently in time to Chirrut's words, soiling his perfect, golden belly and Chirrut’s hand stills slowly, consuming the last crumbs of Baze’s self-awareness.

They sink into endless time, into the warm presence of the other. After an eternity, Baze moves to pull Chirrut closer and cradle his skull feeling for the bump. “Sleep now. You need to sleep.” he mumbles against his cheek. It seems Chirrut doesn’t need prompting, he is half asleep already. He crowds closer and murmurs barely audible. “I’m so glad you are here.” his breathing is a hot against Baze’s throat. “The Force guided you back to me.”

“Hush.” kisses Baze the crown of his head but doesn’t protest. How could he? At that very moment he can’t distinguish their bodies, pulsing together in a sweet, bright light, that melts them in and together with everything that surrounds them. “I am glad, too.”


	12. Chapter 12

Baze starts to the thump of the main door downstairs. It must be Jyn. He looks down to the sleeping man in his arms and sighs. He presses very gently his ribs to wake him up, and Chirrut makes a protesting sound. “Jyn, is home.” he whispers in his ear and gets a clumsy kiss as a reward. 

“Baze!” they can hear Jyn clicking loudly with something around the kitchen. “I’m home! Just you let you know, whatever you’re doing!” she’s voice is full of prank. 

Baze smiles to himself. “Let’s get you into something. I’m sure she wants to meet you.” 

It’s a bit of a production. Chirrut giggles and playfully grabs every part of Baze he can reach to hold him back and pull in a kiss. Somehow he manages to escape laughing to come back with a warm towel to clean up Chirrut and get him into a pair of his own sleep pants and an old T-shirt with a Harley on it. They’re ridiculously big on him, but it doesn’t bother Chirrut. He sniffs the shirt and wraps himself in it. With a delighted smile he puts his hands under his head. “I am ready to receive my admirers.” he announces in the quiet of the room. 

Baze just rolls his eyes. “I go check if any of them is here.” Chirrut snickers even more.

 After a quick change Baze stomps downstairs to find Jyn sitting at the kitchen counter, rolling her tablet. 

“So?” she asks if she knows everything already. 

“Good afternoon to you, too, my little!” smiles on her Baze and gives a kiss on her face. 

“ _Gross!_ ” she laughs. “I don’t want to know the details.” she jumps down from the chair and opens her arms asking for a hug. “It means he is ok?” 

“Yes, my little, he’s definitely better.” Baze willingly embraces her. “He is awake if you want to check on him.” 

“Why didn’t you start with this?” taps Jyn on his chest and she is already rushing up the stairs with Baze on her hills a bit slower. She stops at the door to tap gently. “Professor Îmwe?”

“Yeees?” comes the chirp from inside and in the next moment Jyn is in the room jumping on the bed wrapping her arms around Chirrut and pushing her face against his chest. Chirrut, despite being unprepared for this hug-attack, squeezes her shoulder and calls her _my_ _darling_ and _sweetheart_.  

“Professor Îmwe, I’m so happy that you are okay!” she says in a trembling voice. “I was so worried!” This is all so unlike her that Baze can’t stop wonder and even Chirrut seems to get emotional.

 “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m alright. I just need some rest. Nothing to worry about.” he continues this litany of soothing words stroking gently Jyn’s hair. 

“Professor Îmwe . ..when I saw that man  _ kicking  _ you and…” Baze notices with surprise that she  _ sniffles _ .

 “Well, that wasn’t very polite, indeed!” laughs Chirrut and it seems that cut off guard Jyn because she looks up. “I think after all this, you can call me Chirrut!” He lits up a bright smile with full of teeth and gum. Baze sighs with relief when Jyn’s crystal clear laugh fills the room. “And I am really sorry that we missed the awaited appearance of...that singer…” 

“Be Yond!” Jyn rolls her eyes and they all laugh. Chirrut had blown away Jyn’s worry in a split of a second. 

The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.” Baze mumbles only for himself as it seems the two other doesn’t bother themselves. He gets out of the bedroom and moves through the house again to the front door. He looks through the eyehole to see Cassian’s slim figure outside. He’s looking around, with his sad greyhound eyes, observing the street behind him, then looks back to the door. This gesture is so familiar to Baze. Cassian scouts the terrain as he does. Military training. Or I’m just an old fool imaging things, he shrugs and opens the door. 

“Mr. Malbus.” 

“Cassian, come in.” he steps away to open the path. “Jyn is home already.” 

“Actually, I come to see Chirrut.” he says when he steps inside. “How is he doing?” 

“Fine, fine.” Baze raises his brows. “I show you the way. Jyn is with him.”

 In the bedroom the picture is very cosy. Jyn is sitting on the bed, comfortably, playing with her hair. Chirrut is sitting halfway up, one arm under his head and holding a mug in the other hand as they laugh at something that Baze and Cassian has only just missed. 

“Cassian!” stands up Jyn still laughing to jump right in Cassian’s arms. 

 “Hello, Jyn!” he holds Jyn by her arm, stopping her to lean closer. 

“Good day, Mr. Andor!” Chirrut greets him and he tilts his head to understand the awkward silence as he can’t see Jyn’s shocked face. “Did I miss something?”

 Cassian clears his throat. “Hello, Chirrut! I see you’re better.” 

 “Oh, yes. Getting better.” he replies still with a confused smile. 

Cassian clears his throat again. “Can I have a word with Master Îmwe ?”  He is as serious it gives goosebumps to Baze. They all stare at him for a long moment.

 “Of course. Come Jyn, help me with the food.” he reaches out for Jyn and they leave the two men alone.

 

***************************************

 

Chirrut decides to keep his smile while he listens to the sounds as Cassian pulls the chair to the side of the bed. They sit in silence for a while. Chirrut doesn’t like this silence but he lets Cassian to take his time. He knows he needs time to say aloud what he is about to say.

 It’s been eight years now. The summer was hot that year. One of the hottest he could remember. September rains came as a relief all sentients in the city was waiting for. The freshmen were all so eager to start the semester, they were buzzing all around the University as bees when they first smell the flowers, Chirrut recalls. At first he didn’t noticed the young man visiting the political history class. When he read his first essay on ‘Rights and obligations of citizens in peace and war’ he immediately wanted to talk with him. 

After his first words he knew that Cassian wasn’t interested in men. It was a pity, but Chirrut didn’t mind and didn’t force it. Something else awakened his interest and at the end of their first discussion the reason was clear. Cassian reminded him of Baze, almost painfully. Not his figure, which was fine and sinewy, not his voice which was light and cocky, but the spirit burning inside him. 

 He started to follow closer his studies and actions through his chain of friends, he knew were easily giving gossips on anything. After a few month he found what he was looking for, without knowing he was looking for it. Cassian was a soldier of the Jedhan army searching for infos on the First Order born at that time. That was when he told it to Bail, that was when Bail used his connections to contact the military intelligence and that was when they started to work together. What followed was now history. Thinking about that makes Chirrut smile even more. Who knows it’s a good or bad story, but who is he to decide. After all everything is as the Force wills it. 

“I think I should bring you some clothes from your house.” breaks the silence Cassian. 

Chirrut makes a sulking pout. “I am sure that I am still dashing even in Baze’s clothes.” 

“You say that because you don’t see them.” Chirrut is satisfied he can hear a small jovality in his voice. “Do you want me to give you the list of the stolen pieces?” 

“No need.” Chirrut puts aside the mug searching for the edge of the small stand next to to the bed and feels a small vertigo coming back as he turns his head. Cassian doesn’t move to help and he is grateful for that. “I already know they took the most important thing, the scroll with the crystals. They came for that.” 

“It’s all my fault!” bursts out Cassian bitterly. 

Chirrut doesn’t reply immediately. He is fighting both with the vertigo and the real meaning of Cassian’s words in the same time. “It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault.” he says slowly. “We discussed hundred times the security options. More guards, or the involvement of the army would have been too striking.” 

“Still.” Cassian is fiking on the chair Chirrut can tell. “I was the one in charge with the security. It was my job to defend the scroll and everybody in the library!” 

Chirrut sighs. That is so much Cassian. He thinks he has to carry all the problem of the universe on his shoulders and he is the one who is responsible for everything that is wrong.  He doesn’t accept that he isn’t made for that, alone he isn’t strong enough. Alone, nobody is. Otherwise, it is not important what he does, or he does not. There is no good or bad, and in the same time there has to be a good and it has to be a bad.  As everything is as the Force wills it at the end. If the Force puts them into a situation, the Force will provide a solution. This is a thing that Baze doesn’t understand either. That is so much Baze. 

 “You couldn’t have done anything more, even if you knew what was going on, and you didn’t know what was going on. _We_ didn’t know. Nobody knew.” Chirrut words are dry as the facts. “Were the guards bribed or threatened?”  

“Some of them were threatened but most of them were bribed.” His stops moving on the chair. “This could have been a great opportunity to catch Krennic if we knew what is going on.” now he is angry and again, there is something behind his words Chirrut can’t identify. He would reach out for him, comforting, but he knows Cassian would take it as a coddle. A small pressure rises in his temple, he will soon need a pill. Not yet. 

“Help me please, to lay down.” he asks Cassian to break this rhythm they are in. Cassian moves and strong hands help him clumsily to lower in the bed and adjust the pillow under his head. “Even if we knew what was going on, we wouldn’t have been able to prove it was anything to do with Krennic. Don’t you worry, next opportunity will come. Sooner or later he will make a fault.” Chirrut nods. “In the meantime we have to rescan the staff of the University.” 

“I should have done that already. If I did, you wouldn’t have been injured.” Does he really care as much about him, Chirrut wonders. No, that can’t be. He does worry for him, he knows it, but Cassian is also well aware that they are all taking risque. This is not the same as for Baze. There should be something else. “I was distracted.” there it is, but still not clear. 

“Distracted in what way?” 

“By Jyn.” the words are quiet as if it was painful to form them.  “I just wanted to spend a little time with her.” Chirrut starts to understand and he is not happy at all. “I shouldn’t have started at all.” 

“Cassian…,” Chirrut voice is well controlled. “Don’t say that! We are fighting for a better future. That means, in the future there has to be things and people we care about. It is us who have to populate the future with those people and things. For that, you have to live and follow your passion doing what you want to do the most. If you stop living, if you deny the things you live for, the First Order wins.” He feels the tension running down from Cassian. Now, he is such a child, Chirrut thinks with affection. A well trained soldier, a spy, who cuts himself out easily from every dangerous situation, yet, to curt a young girl, he needs prompting. He needs _his_ prompting. It’s a strange feeling to know that, to being able to have that, it burns his eyes. This is a thing he has never imagined he could ever have. The Force flows in mysterious ways.  

He reaches out for Cassian. “Come, let me take a look at you.” He rarely asks this form him, once or twice in the last eight years. The bed shifts as Cassian sits next to him and leans against his hand. He quickly runs his fingers through his face, this is  not what he is searching for. Chirrut cups Cassian’s cheek to feel his mouth curve up a bit against his hand. “That’s better.” he taps very gently his face. “Now, go and get her! The prettiest are always sold out the first.” Cassian is out of the room in a moment. Chirrut lets his hand drop back to the bed-sheet and wishes Baze to come back, he doesn’t know where he put those awful pills.

 

*************************************************

 

Downstairs Baze puts on some music. “Have you seen the news?” Jyn looks up with bows risen. She is sitting next to the kitchen counter to continue to roll her tablet. 

“No. Is there something interesting?” Baze asks while soft melodies fill the space. Good for white noise, he nods. 

“But, seriously, Baze!” prompts Jyn and she reads aloud one of the headlines of the day. “‘ _Dr. Îmwe’s party rocks Jedha!’_ Everything is full of this.”  

“Oh, great news for Chirrut, than.” rounds Baze the counter to finish the soup. It will definitely be for supper now. “Actually, the gala was good...until those scums ruined it.” He needs to add some more vegetables, Cassian will probably stay. Or not. He isn’t sure after his former behaviour. 

“Yeah.” shrugs Jyn. “Do you know who is on every cover photo?” she asks with a grin. 

“Probably Chirrut...I hope his tuxedo doesn’t take away the glory light from him.” he fumbles with the vegetables. All of them have gone dry or ugly brown. He has to start from scratch, so he could add some more. 

 “Yes, it’s prof Îmwe, aaaand…?” her grin grows wider and she sniggers. That is a bad sign. 

“And who?” 

“And you!” Jyn turns to him the tablet with a triumphant smile and Baze grabs it out from her hands in horror. It’s really him with Chirrut! It’s true there were thousands of picture taken on them, but Baze would have never imagined that they will use them as a cover photo. 

He quickly runs through some of the articles with Jyn peeking through his shoulder, chuckling, pointing out sentences and giving her opinion on every picture they haven’t seen before. The articles all say the same thing. ‘ _Dr. Îmwe’s party rocks Jedha in every meaning of the word.”_ They give details on the spectacles, quote from the speeches, list the stolen things and make guesses on the possible culprit, giving shady hints on the First Order. Baze growls. And there are the picture galleries with the outfits of the celebrities, always mentioning Chirrut on the first place. 

This is what gives Baze a headache. There are at least two dozens of different picture on them, the texts connected to them are guessing who is Chirrut’s mysterious _and_ handsome partner. Baze can’t do anything just growl again in disbelief. He never looked for this kind of attention and he never ever considered himself handsome. Although he has to admit, they look good together with Chirrut. 

“This is what I like best!” points Jyn one of the pictures after they carefully studied most of them. Baze remembers the moment the picture was taken. They were forced on the top of the stairs with a  great view on the library behind them. Baze wanted to back out, but the journalist asked them to stand next to Chirrut and Chirrut pulled him by his side. 

“Why they want me here?” he groaned trying to smile in the same time. 

“Because they don’t know who you are and you’re a handsome bastard.” Chirrut whispered loudly through his smile. “I am sure you put your hair in Jedhan braid.” This was true. Baze spent almost a half an hour to put the upper half of his hair in a bun and make one, thick braid on both side, next to his ears. He was surprised that Chirrut knew that without asking or touching and in the same time he wasn’t surprised at all. The picture was taken in that precise moment, Chirrut looking up to him with his glittering smile and wearing _sunglasses_ , and he, looking into the camera with the edges of his mouth slightly curling up and a full smile in his eyes. That is a good picture. 

Someone clears his throat. Cassian is standing on the bottom of the stairs. Jyn crosses her arms in front of her chest, frowning. 

“I am really sorry for that.” Cassian gestures upstairs with a shy smile. “I was just embarrassed because of the presence of Mr. Malbus.” 

Baze huffs, he isn’t that intimidating after all. Or is he? However, it’s a poor excuse, he finds. Something in this guy makes him itchy, but he doesn’t know what exactly. He is a charming young man, a doctor, has a good job, Chirrut likes him, Jyn likes him. What is the problem? It seems the apology was enough for Jyan, as she smiles again and pulls Cassian by his wrist after her, up on the stairs. 

“We’ll be in my room.” her voice flies after them. “Don’t disturb!” perhaps  _ that _ is the problem. He looks down to the vegetables. He is trying to prepare a soup since, how many, six hours now. Cool. Definitely needs more vegetables, Cassian will stay. He has to check on Chirrut first.


	13. Chapter 13

It’s one of those really cold days of the year in Jedha,  Baze merrily pats his palms to warm them up. He can’t believe how lucky he is. He was driving from home to the garage and turned a few corners earlier as usual when he saw it, the skeleton of an old chopper laying around on a front yard, in the middle of a bunch of crap. He stopped and knocked on the door. A man at his age opened it. He said, they swept out the shed the day before, they wanted to throw all that away. He sold it him for a song.

 

Now the iron was on his trunk, ready to reborn in the garage. “Bodhi, come help me to get down this beauty from the truck.” he shouts in the open door.  He can’t hear the noise of work, just the radio buzzes quietly. “Bodhi, where are you?”

 

He looks inside to see Bodhi standing in the middle with a man. “I...we’re here.” 

 

“Good morning, Baze. I’m Galen.” He reaches out and Baze shakes shortly the warm and strong hand. The man is taller than he imagined.

 

“What are you doing here?” Baze doesn’t like at all that he is there. The hair on the back of his neck prickles.

 

“I came to talk with you. You weren’t here so I was waiting for you.”

 

“I see you had a good time.” He glances at Bodhi, who stands there like a little boy who had just been trapped in something terrible, with a guilty face.  

 

“Please, boss. It’s my fault.” Bodhi’s voice is full of panic but he looks right in Baze’s eyes.

 

“I don’t care what are you doing, but not in _ my garage _ ! You know you can come and go whenever you want.” Baze says quietly, but full of disapproval.

 

“Yes, boss. I know. I’m sorry.” he goes out to grab the motorbike to drag it inside quickly.

 

“It was my fault. We can’t meet very often.” Galen’s voice is dry as a desert as if he was talking about mathematical formulas.

 

Baze understands that it can’t be easy, but not in  _ his _ damned garage. He stares at him for a long moment. “You said you came to me. What do you want, Galen?”

 

Galen starts to speak without hesitation. “Two month ago, after that misfortunate riot …”

 

“...peace-march…” interrupts him Baze. 

 

“...after the peace-march,” Galen’s steely expression doesn’t give out his feelings. “I promised to check if you’ve been charged.”

 

“Did you find something?” Baze shakes his head. “I didn’t received any citation.”

 

Galen steps closer. “There is no charge raised against you, neither against your cellmate, professor Îmwe. However I did find something.” His grey eyes are curious and calculating, waiting for the effect of his words. “The First Order has files about this guy.  _ Thick _ files. They are paying close attention to him.”

 

“Really?” Baze inhales and lets it go again, calming himself. He doesn’t know Galen and most of all, he doesn’t know his intentions. “Why would they do that?” 

 

“I’m not sure. Perhaps because of his past or because he is involved in the restoration of the Temple. The First Order is very interested in that.” He says this as if he was talking about a common secret, Baze has not the slightest idea about.

 

“Why are you telling me all this? This is none of my business.”

 

Galen comes even closer and lowers his voice. “I think it is your business...posing for cover photos with him on ‘ _ the party that rocked Jedha _ ’. I can tell it didn’t rocked only Jedha.” It’s not menacing, it sounds rather as if he’s never heard anything more pleasant in his life.

 

Galen doesn’t mean the gala itself, but the effects of it. The first week they spent quietly, Baze tried to catch up a little of the lost years, which meant lots of time spent together talking, making love and sleeping. By the time Chirrut became unbearably restless and the medical check said he can slowly start to work again, the news about the gala was unfolded, shouted from all corners by big media. Instead of whispers in half-forgotten articles about the emerging pressure of the First Order, now they were talking everywhere about the pests and thieves, raped history and the blind professor, protector of Jedhan identity, injured heavily.

 

The first thing Chirrut did was to give interviews to every possible media, speaking about the lost treasures and telling stories how the former Empire ruined the guardians and the temple itself. The jedhan understood the message and expressed their solidarity through donations, which grew faster and faster. Jedha showed who it sympathized with and it clearly wasn’t the First Order.

 

“Well, this is not _ your _ business.” says Baze quietly but firmly.

 

“It is my business…” now he stands as close Baze almost feels his breath on his face. “...if you let Jyn to get involved, working with this Îmwe at the University. She told me all about it.” when Baze doesn’t reply he backs a bit, his confidence falters but he continues. “He was the only one attacked on the gala, he was the only one arrested on the ‘ _ peace-march _ ’, besides you of course. Too much coincidences, don’t you think?”

 

“Did you tell your concerns to Jyn?” Baze crosses his arms in front of him.

 

“Yes, but she wouldn’t listen.” Baze can see sadness flicker across his face. “Please, convince her to keep herself away.”

 

“She is a big girl, Galen. I don’t think I can keep her back from anything. Even if I forbid her to go to the Temple, she would find a way to do what she wants.”

 

“ _ You _ better find a way.” Galen pitches his chin and Baze knows he is not going to like what he will hear. “For her safety. The Order doesn’t handle kindly those who cross its paths. Baze, ” he lowers his voice “...I don’t know what’s between you with this guy...but I beg you, for Jyn, be very careful.”

 

“I am always careful.” groans Baze.

 

“Thank you.” somehow the words really seem to be sincere. However, Baze doesn’t mind when Bodhi shows him the way out.

  
  


********************************

 

His whole day turned bad. Baze dropped all the tools, burned himself with the coffee, tripped over his own laces and most of all he bickered with Bodhi. Although he wasn’t angry with him. 

 

He was angry with himself. Why does everything have to return to the First Order? Why does he have to examine all his acts under magnifying glass to be sure it doesn’t have to do anything with the Order in any case? Why does he feel everything presses him to fight again? Should he fight again? Anger turns into guilt than back to anger again.

 

The first moment of ease is when he finally sits in his car to drive to the Temple for Chirrut. They have a date night, as Jyn said with a wink. He smiles to himself for the first time since morning. They are going to eat something than spend some quiet time together, if any time you can call quiet when Chirrut is there.

 

He finds a parking spot not far and calls Chirrut’s number. It rings for a while before Chirrut picks it up and from his surprised voice Baze knows immediately he completely forget their date. Chirrut asks him to wait before the gates and he obeys with laud huffs. The chilly wind blows back all the irritation of the day into his bones.

 

Chirrut appears in good ten minutes with quick steps, tapping with his cane and a yellow protection helmet still on his head. He stops on the top of the stairs to listen around. “Hello, Chirrut.” Baze calls out for him and he almost flies down the stairs to jump into Baze’s arms making him step back and by the second attempt he finds Baze’s lips to kiss him. He breaks apart only to take down the helmet and tuck his head under his jaw. “How could I forget this?”

 

Baze dissolves in laughter and all the fury, frustration and flutter that haunted him retreat to the back of his mind as a faint little vibration. With his thumb he wipes a stain of dust from Chirrut’s jaw. “Let’s go eat something. I’m hungry.”  He really is, realising he hasn’t eaten all day.

 

“There is a small chinese buffet two corners down.” proposes Chirrut as Baze takes his hand. “Let’s go there, because I have to come back after we ate. I’m really sorry.” he squeezes his hand asking for forgiveness. “You won’t believe all the things happened today…But first you. Tell me how was your day!”

 

“Not good.” Baze grumbles trying to push back the memories.

 

Chirrut pushes closer into the heat of Baze and jogs his arm with his chin. “Tell me about it!”

 

Baze considers it for a moment. Should he tell Chirrut about Galen? Probably, but not today. “There’s nothing, just a bad day.” he tucks him under his arm and Chirrut puts his hand on his waist. “Rather you tell me all those incredible things!”

 

Chirrut doesn’t need more encouragement, Baze’s prompting opens the flood of words, ornate stories with never heard expressions. Baze lets them flow through him like pouring, warm rain. They have found the way out from the maze and there are caves on the other side. It’s amazing with capital A. Full of wonderful sculptures and reliefs, even they are all broken, damaged or both.  _ And _ they saw only the entrance. Probably the caves was for that special crystal now totally denuded and stripped down from the walls. 

 

Baze smiles to himself, sometimes hums or throws in words like “Really?”, “Unbelievable!” and smiles wider watching Chirrut’s flying hand and shining face. They order some dan dan noodles with aubergine and chilli, potsticker dumplings filled with cabbage and salted caramel milk tea. They stand next to one of the high tables in the window and Chirrut just keeps talking.

 

“This is only the half of it! Can you believe it? On the other side, a lucky group of restorers with the help of some construction workers cleaned a narrow path on a corridor that opens toward the interior halls.” A drop of dipping sauce spills over the corner of his lower lip and he sucks it into his mouth for a moment. Baze gives him a napkin but Chirrut uses it only to further emphasize his words. “We can start the exploration there, too!” Baze can’t help to press a kiss on his cheek. Chirrut stops for a moment to giggle but he continues from where he left off.

 

“We made a gentlemen’s agreement with Krennic. We use the found received from the Senate to excavate the caves, and the donation of the citizens to reveal the inner halls.” Chirrut sighs and he pushes some noodles in his mouth. “The only problem is the manpower...however there is a solution. For the inner halls lots of competence and some power is needed but for the caves, it is just the opposite..” His nose wrinkles.  **“** In which there is a deficit, is the muscle. Krennic offered to make use of his connections and asks for reinforcement to help clean up debris.”

 

The chopstick stops in Baze’s hand, his grin fades away and three words flashes in front of his eyes: ‘ _ Krennic, connections, reinforcement _ ’. “What kind of reinforcement?” his question rumbles out from his chest silencing Chirrut, who mimics Baze as a dumpling stops in front of his mouth. “Who, Chirrut, who?”

 

Chirrut pops the dumpling in his mouth and his answer is muffled by it. “We can use the soldiers of the First Order. There is a whole squad, they say they’re guarding the area of the restoration.”

 

“First Order?” Baze bites in his lip and drops down the sticks. The tiny, shrinking ball of frustration, almost forgotten, now explodes deep down behind his temple, painting his mind in red. 

 

Chirrut swallows the dumpling and places one hand on Baze’s arm soothing. “If they are there, they can help to clean up debris.”

 

“First Order.” repeats Baze slowly in disbelief and Chirrut sighs.

 

“I don’t like it either, but we need help unless the whole process will be dragging, eating up all the money.”

 

Baze looks down to the dumpling but has no more appetite. “This price is too high.” 

 

“You don’t approve.” Chirrut’s voice is almost sad. 

 

“I totally don’t approve, Chirrut!” Baze frowns on him. “I though the objective is to have  _ less _ Order influence and now you let them on the Temple grounds? What will the jedhan say if they find out what they are giving their money?”

 

“They are jedhan, too. Like you and me...just with different opinion. They are already there and against Krennic I couldn’t...” 

 

Baze doesn’t let him finish. “What are you talking about?” he steps away from the table, from Chirrut. “Do not compare me to them!”

 

Chirrut looks thoughtful at this, head tilted slightly to one side as he faces Baze across the table. “I understand and share your concerns.” The pit of Baze’s stomach drops a few inches as he listens. “I believe truly that time and money is a bigger enemy now. I’ve been fighting for this for years…” He lifts his hand for Baze, but he is out from his reach so he just keeps it in the air, pleading. “Now it’s happening Baze. It really is! We are  _ so _ close.” He lets his arm drop as there is no reaction from Baze. “I know that you have your reasons to distrust the First Order.”

 

“My reasons?” Baze lowers his voice and steps closer to Chirrut to grab his abandoned hand. “I thought they are your reasons as well. Especially after what happened.” Why, oh why again, he is not able to rid of the fight? “Surely you must see Krennic has more stake in this than just the obvious. The First Order is not something you can trust. You want this so much…” He isn’t really sure what exactly does Chirrut want. “...you are blinded by your own desire!”

 

“I’m blind, but not blinded!” Chirrut snaps not able to hide the bitterness from his voice as he withdraws his hand from Baze’s grip. “Thank you for the lesson...and the dinner!” He gives something similar to a “look”, turns and pushes open the door to step out in the the cold night. His yellow helmet disappears on the first corner. Baze smashes the rest of the food in the trash with a heavy grunt.

 

When a bit later he opens the front door to step in the house he cannot recall how he drove home all along the way. He hears music coming out from Jyn’s room so he climbs the stairs, knocks on the door and enters when Jyn says “Come in!”

 

She is sitting in front of her laptop and keeps her nose in the screen. “You’re home?” Baze asks sitting on the bed.

 

“Yeah.” she looks up finally.  “What happened, Dad?” she asks with eyes wide open. “You and Chirrut supposed to have a date...Don’t tell me you had a fight!” Baze lowers his head. “Dad!”

 

“Is it that obvious?” 

 

“Yes, it is. Now tell me what happened! Is it serious?” Jyn gets up and throws herself on the bed pushing her body to Baze’s side. He never ever has imagined he would share these kind of things with her. He always thought it would be the other way around. 

 

“He told me about the new help at the Temple...” Baze puts his arm around Jyn and leans against the wall. “...and I told my opinion.”

 

“It wasn’t his idea, Baze.” Jyn presses her chin against his shoulder, now their eyes are on the same level. “Nobody is happy, but it’s only a squad against the dozens of geologues, restorators, workers and faculty members. Almost nothing. You know doctor Krennic is the boss and prof Îmwe doesn’t have a word in it after all, and the soldiers are there anyway.”

 

“He could have protested at least…” Baze groans and feels his fist clenching.

 

“He did. After his words were turned down he insisted that since they aren’t specialists, they can only move on a well defined route with an escort in the Temple. If any of them breaks this rule, he can’t come in any more.” Jyn takes a pause. “I don’t think he could have done more against Krennic.”

 

Baze shakes his head. “Galen came to the shop today.” he says in a stern voice.

 

Jyn rises from his chest and crosses her arms. “Father? Why?”

 

“That is the one million dollar question, isn’t it? I think you know it better than me.” Baze shifts his weight to face Jyn. “Bodhi was there, but I don’t think Galen would come as far, when they can meet in secret. He came to ask me to warn you and now I start to understand why.”

 

“I can take care of myself!” Jyn mouth grows into a thin, white line.

 

“I know, my little Jyn.” he reaches out to run his thumb on her cheek. “However, after what I heard today, I think you should watch better. Please, don’t do anything that you would regret later.” Baze voice is pleading and full of concern. Jyn considers it for a moment then nods.

 

“Ok, I promise, but…” Baze groans. “... _ but _ you have to call Chirrut!” Baze makes a protesting sound but shuts up when he meets with Jyn’s serious gaze. These are the eyes of an equal, mature young lady, Baze has to listen to her. “I think you should call him, Dad. You were so happy together, when he was here.” she pats his chest and stands up. “Go, go, call him! I have some work to finish!”

 

Baze goes down to the kitchen. He is still hungry, he didn’t eat much at the chinese before he dropped the food out. He takes a look in the fridge but doesn’t really see what is inside. He closes the door and searches for his phone to thumb through the last calls, pushes the green button and lifts the phone to his ear.

 

“Baze,” after a few rings Chirrut picks it up cold as the night outside. 

 

“Hey, Chiry,” Baze tries to be neutral. “...you owe me a date night!” After a few long, aching seconds he starts to wonder if he should have opened with an apology. No, he only told his opinion, he has every right to do that.

 

“Do I?” asks finally Chirrut and Baze really gets scared how tired his voice is. “Look, I will be very busy in the upcoming days.”

 

“Really? ‘Cause I thought I could prepare your favourite tomorrow...rice balls with fried mushrooms and to finish, I’d pick up some nutcake from The Jedi.”

 

Chirrut hums and Baze hopes that is promising. “Tomorrow, heh? With nutcake?”

 

“I’m sure, Chiry,” Baze purrs the name, counting on the effect. “...you cannot do many things in the Temple by night.”

 

Silence, than Chirrut voice comes, turning from freezing to neutral. “Will you make green tea, too?”

 

“I will make green tea, too.”

 

Silence again then a little sigh. “Alright, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

 

“Deal.” Baze grins against the phone. His chest is so full with air, he can’t breath. “Chirrut, I… “ ‘ _l_ __o_ ve you, forgive me, don’t want you to turn away from me, need you’ _ ...and so many more things he wants to say but all of them stuck in his throat.

 

“I know, Baze,” whispers Chirrut in his ear. “ ...me too, me too.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: 
> 
> this chap is about a date night.

“I hope I’m not too late,” Chirrut says with his usual grin when he hears Baze’s approaching footsteps.

“Not at all”.  Baze peeked out of the kitchen window in almost every minute since he got his message, now he just gives a low, guttural laugh from a few feet away as he comes out from the house. “You look dashing, as always.” he really means it. The first snowflakes of the winter glitters silvery on his black hair and grey coat ah he is approaching on the narrow path. He reaches out for Baze to share a kiss.  “The dinner's almost ready, I hope you’re hungry.”

Chirrut wraps his free arm around Baze’s waist and presses their bodies flush together to whisper in his collar, “I am hungry and I hope you won’t offer me only dinner!”

Heat curls up on Baze’s spine, and he pulls closer Chirrut to run his lips across his cheek. “Why, what else do you need?” rubbing his mouth to the curve of his neck.

Chirrut exhales, “You know, I’m open to every possible outcome you may offer.”

Baze swallows a laugh but it comes out anyway. “Will see! First let’s get inside!” He guides him along to the front door just to keep their bodies close. Inside the house is temperate and smelling faintly of ginger. Chirrut leaves his coat in the wardrobe by the entrance than follows Baze to the kitchen and puts his cane in a close corner. 

“Jyn?” asks Chirrut as he sniffs in the air above the stove.

“She isn’t home.” nudges him Baze away toward the table separating the kitchen and the living room. “She spoke about some movie to see with Cassian, than they will spend the night together.” his voice becomes heavy at the end of the sentence and Chirrut tilts his head.

“Are you worried?” he asks. Baze looks up to watch him hanging his black suit on one of the chairs in front of the kitchen counter and opening the upper buttons of his speckless, white shirt.

“Yes, and no.” he says turning off the stove. “I know I shouldn’t be...but I think it’s something I can’t stop.”

“She is safe with Cassian.” Chirrut is rolling up his sleeves letting the muscles of the forearm to be seen.

“Here, hold out your hand!” Chirrut does so, without a question and Baze puts a mug with hot tea in it. He smooths gently Chirrut’s collar down. “Well, if he hurts her, I will break every single bone in his body.” his voice is serious.

“I don’t think it will be necessary.” Chirrut says when he finished laughing. He would ask more about Jyn, but he doesn’t press for details. It’s a conversation better suited later. He tastes the tea to find it’s the gunpowder tea from The Jedi. “Oh. You know how to spoil me!” he says appreciatively leaning in Baze’s space who closes the distance between their lips. 

“I have some more ideas.” he whispers against his mouth and Chirrut shivers in his arms.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Chirrut rounds the table when they part, to put down the mug.

“Yes. Could you find the plates, please, till I finish the sauce? And we can eat.”

Chirrut sorts out the plates and Bazes body fills with warmth as he watches how comfortably he is moving around, how he already memorised his house. They settle down at the table and Baze pulls his chair closer. “Rice balls in the middle, sauce in front of you.” he sets down the bowls.

Chirrut likes this kind of food because he can eat them with his hands and he does so. He reaches out shamelessly, digs one ball in the sauce and pops it in his mouth. He closes his eyes as he chews with pleasured moans. “It’s very good.” he smiles in the direction of Baze and leans a bit against him. “I haven’t eaten this for a long time.” he takes the next ball.

“I thought this is your favorite.” says Baze as he starts to eat.

“My favorite is as  _ you _ do it.” he says sheepishly. Baze stares at him for a moment trying to cope with all the thoughts and emotions swirling inside of him because of this small, innocent, little sentence.  

He touches Chirrut shoulder to run his hand down on his arm “I am happy that you are here.” that's all that he is able to say and the last word still breaks.

Chirrut curls his long fingers around his hand and leans against his side. “It’s all right then? You’re not angry at me?”

Baze huffs. “Of course not.” he was never angry at him. He was angry at the Empire, the First Order, sometimes at the whole world, but never, ever at Chirrut. “I will always worry for you. I know that you can take care of yourself… but if you need me, I’m here for you.”

Chirrut hums and tucks his forehead against Baze’s shoulder. “I wish I could stop you worrying, but I suppose I can’t.”

“First Order never means any good.” says Baze more bitterly as he wanted to, so he puts a rice ball in Chirrut’s mouth to cut the edges of his words. “I don’t want to think about them, right now.” He rubs Chirrut’s back through the thin shirt, as he chews, hunched over with his elbows on the table. “Just promise me you’ll watch yourself.”

Chirrut licks sauce from his fingers. “I will, I promise.” He gives a smile with his gums all orange from the sauce. “And what do you want to think about?” Chirrut muses as Baze draws circles on his back with his fingers.

“I’m thinking about the same thing as you do.” Baze nibbles down his throat.

Chirrut smirks at him. “You’re thinking about eating the nutcake, too?” Baze groans but lifts himself up laughing to bring the cake to the table. Chirrut reaches out for them before the plate lands on the table. “Do you have plans for the week-end?” he asks pushing a whole slice in his mouth.

“I have something with Jyn on Saturday, but we can do a pizza day Sunday.” Chirrut laughs with mouth full and it makes Baze's heart colour up no reason, but it feels - enough.

“Okay, sounds good.” he puts a small kiss on the backside of Baze’s hand. “You should come over to my place.” he rises to put the dishes into the sink to deal with them later. Baze stays, but his eyes follow Chirrut as he fumbles with something on the counter so Baze can take a good look on the muscles moving on Chirrut’s strong back, follows the curve of his butt in his jeans, the long lines of his legs. His chest fills with warmth stopping his breath in his lungs.

He stands up and steps behind Chirrut to lock him in his arms. Chirrut leans against his body and tilts his head when Baze bows to kiss his neck and along his jaw. When he kisses him slowly, sweetly Chirrut’s lips are warm and soft. Chirrut reaches back and catches Baze’s head with a hot touch in his hair.

Baze clutches and skids his fingers over the bump of Chirrut’s nipple through the thin shirt making Chirrut catching a breath in his throat and running a shiver through his pelvis. Baze continues to slide down his hand to spasm his fingers on Chirrut’s abdominal to feel the muscles.

The kiss is lacking in urgency even though Baze can feel that Chirrut is grinding against his  groin with slow movements that makes sparks go off in Baze’s stomach. He slides his hand deeper to feel the obvious bulge in his tight jeans.

Baze swallows hard. “Already?” he whispers in Chirrut’s mouth who laughs against his tongue.

“Don’t make me wait!” his voice is needy.

“Impatient as always.” Baze licks in his lower lip. “What do you want me to do with you?”

Chirrut sucks in a breath. “Fill me, Baze!” he grits out lips curving in a maddening smile and sighs.

“In the bedroom.” nibs Baze Chirrut’s ear. He pulls him down the hall stopping for smooth kisses. The air in the bedroom is slightly cooler than around the kitchen, the small lamp illuminates the bed with a soft yellow light.

He gently places Chirrut backward onto the duvet and climbs on the top of him capturing his mouth again. With sure and quick fingers he unwraps Chirrut’s clothes leaving wet kisses on every possible spot he can reach. Finally Chirrut lays under him, with his golden skin glowing in the dim light and his pink shaft curves gracefully against his stomach. Baze's heart beats stronger with desire. He strips himself down in a second.

“Baze…” Chirrut purrs and reaches out for him. “Fill me! I need you inside me!”

Baze shivers with the words, but teases “Soon!”, and curves his fingers around Chirrut’s buttocks to brush the sensitive skin at the top of his thighs forcing out more of that quivering sigh from Chirrut. He reaches for the lube, uncaps it and rubs one slicked finger against Chirrut’s perineum. Chirrut is gasping of pleasure and he teases him for a while. Chirrut tugs on his hair, demanding, “You want me to beg?” he pouts.

“You are so pushy...” Baze says. “...but I have other plans for tonight.” He watches with eyes wide open as Chirrut gasps, biting his lower lip as Baze slips slowly a finger inside. His mouth is watering in anticipation. He slides his finger with measured moves in and out listening to every little moan of Chirrut when he touches the right spot.

“Ba-aze,” Chirrut tries to sit up, but Baze carefully pushes him back.

“Don’t move, just enjoy!” his words are firm as an order and Chirrut obeys. He strokes two fingers over the tight entrance to Chirrut’s body who shamelessly wiggles, especially when Baze's tongue licks between his splayed fingers applying a gentle suction. Chirrut inhales deeply. Baze looks up to see him with his head thrown back, hands digging in the bed-sheet, the muscles in his belly shuddering with every curl of Baze's fingers in him. The view makes Baze dizzy.

He can see that Chirrut’s mind is still spinning relentlessly so he fists his cock to slick it. He doesn't tease this time, just pushes into him smoothly, until their hips fit firmly and he is rewarded with a long and deep moan. Before Chirrut can catch his breath, Baze pins him down with all of his weight. He puts his elbows next to his shoulders and catches both side of Chirrut’s head who crosses his ankles above his back. Baze doesn’t pull out just keeps his cock evenly deep, as much as he is able to, and when starts to rock both of them in small rounds Chirrut hitches a breath.

Baze is stronger, so every time Chirrut tries to buck up his hip to make the rhythm quicker, Baze stops to move and pins him down. “Ssshhhh.” he calms him.

“What...are you doing?” whimpers Chirrut.

“You asked me to fill you.” whisper Baze against his cheek. “So I fill you.” Chirrut moans brokenly as he slowly continues to rock both of them pushing in deeper. Chirrut’s breathing becomes harder and stronger with every round, sometimes with low moans. Baze can’t get enough from all the little flicker and twitch of his face, the way his swollen lips part and open with pleasure and that small wrinkle deepens as Chirrut spins higher and higher.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel? Undone and mine?" Baze licks Chirrut’s cheek, blows cool air on the spot and Chirrut let’s out a long, guttural noise, tensing his body in the desperate try to buck up and fasten the speed.

“Sshhh.” says Baze. “Slowly.” He wants to spread these moments as long as he can. Forever if it’s possible.

Chirrut’s eyes are shut but his mouth opens and closes as he struggles with words. “Baze…” he whispers. “Please... fasten... the speed!”

“No.” Baze repeats. “Slowly tonight.” Chirrut gulps for air and swallows hard. He reaches up to find Baze’s shoulder and clings on it. Baze can feel that he is riding on the edge of overstimulation so he stops to move. Chirrut breathing is shaky. He thumbs his bottom lip to make his mouth open a bit more, than places his own lips over them. He inhales the air that Chirrut breathes out and Chirrut can breath in the air he exhales. When Chirrut tightens his grip on his shoulder he starts to rock them again with interminable rounds.

Baze loses the track of time as he is breathing together with Chirrut, drinking in the taste of his saliva, his growing moans, his salty sweat and his luscious lust. Fire is swelling inside him steadily, cooled by the sweat covering his skin. His head is spinning and he gets closer to the end of his self-control. Chirrut moans grow into low, long-drawn cries and he is trembling under Baze’s body.

He works a hand between them, palms Chirrut’s cock and strokes it with the same slow, steady rhythm as the roll of his hip. Chirrut’s shaft is sliding like silk over hardened steel and he makes the loveliest mewls and devotional moans, pure pleasure covering his face. After a few, slow strokes Chirrut arches his back pushing his front against Baze and crys out shocked and broken. Baze watches his face as he pulls the orgasm out of him with practiced and relentless touch as Chirrut pulses onto his stomach between them in wet throbs and uncontrollable spasms.

Baze is so close to the edge, he struggles to keep the space all through Chirrut’s long bliss. Then he is not able to hold back any longer the ball of delight building in the pit of his spine. He lets it slam into him, coming hard and filling the inside of Chirrut, with only one hard, thrust, knocking the breath out of him for long moments. When he can breath again, he touches their foreheads together, gasping for air.

It takes some moment, but eventually he can feel Chirrut’s still shivering body and his small whines beneath. He slides out from him and rolls on his side, careful not to broke the contact. In his attempt to ground Chirrut, he runs his strong, firm hand on his body, sometimes squeezing him. “Chirrut, my beautiful, open your eyes! Chirrut, you are so good, you feel so good! Can you hold my hand?” He keeps talking until Chirrut hums and reaches up to his face with searching fingers.

“You are here.” catches Baze his hand and presses kisses on his fingertips.

“ _ Where  _ did you learn that?” Chirrut murmurs.

“Think on this next time” Baze teases. “...when an unpracticed freshmen blows you for a better grade.” 

Chirrut lits up his eternal smile, “It happened only once or twice, you know…and  _ not  _ for the better grade.” and laughs silently and shamelessly. Baze cannot decide if it’s true or a lie.

Baze goes to find a warm towel to wipe both of them and throws it back in the bathroom. They wrap up in each other comfortably without the need for a blanket, not yet. “How does it look like?” Chirrut asks running his fingers on the tattoo on his right arm.

Baze takes his hand gently and guides his fingers through the shapes. “Here are the wings, here is where the light comes from to shine up high and here are some sparkles.” he lets his fingers linger on his skin while he gives a small kiss on the deep line between his brows. 

“The light always shines.” whispers Chirrut as he grabs Baze’s arm and wraps around himself to rest his weight against his chest and side.

It is so comfortable and cosy, he almost falls asleep, but he doesn’t want to. What he want is to hold Chirrut, hear his voice, breath in the scent of his hair. “What are you thinking about?” 

Chirrut makes a sudden wiggle, perhaps he dropped off for a second, Baze smiles. He presse his nose against Baze’s throat and yawns. “Jyn wanted to see the caves, but I didn’t know what you would say, if I had let her down there.” his voice is sleepy and light.

Baze considers it for a moment then says firmly. “I don’t want her around there anymore.”

Chirrut strokes his ribs slowly. “I can give her things to do in the University.” he shrugs as a confirmation than sits up in the bed and leans against the pillows. “Baze, you have every right to not to tell me, but who is she?”

 

Baze follows to rise up on his elbows and pulls Chirrut down to lay against him. His body is warm, solid, his skin smooth above the muscles. “She’s Galen Erso’s daughter.” He thinks on the little girl on the bench in the park.

“Oh,” Chirrut’s hand tightens on his side. “..we didn’t know…”

“We?” Baze turns his head to look at the top of his hair in confusion.

“ _ I _ didn’t know. It was just the twist of tongue.” Chirrut rubs his cheek against him as a cat and strokes his ribs lazily.

The gears are turning slowly in Baze’s head as Chirrut continues to purr and traces a wet line on his chest, but a faint shadow of a misgiving begins to take shape. “Hey, lately you asked me if I want to keep alive the light of the rebellion. Now, you say,  _ we _ …” he can’t get on the end of his thoughts, because Chirrut kisses him eagerly.

“I see you don’t understand what is a twist of tongue.” he whispers as he slides his hot lips down on his belly. “Let me show you.” Soon he is hard and ready again in Chirrut’s mouth.

Later that night, when they are covered with sweat, saliva and cum, laying lax in each other's arms, he pulls Chirrut closer. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too.” he lets out a long sigh and tangles their legs together as if he fears they might drift apart in the night. “The truth is there were time, when I pray to the Force to take this love away from me. But I never could stop loving you.”

Baze pulls him even closer, so close that he cannot know anymore where he ends and where Chirrut starts.


	15. Chapter 15

“Professor Îmwe, the rector is here.” steps in Keyto after knocking. Chirrut was about to leave to check on the work in the Temple. After the morning classes he didn’t have time for a lunch yet, he was thinking about picking up a sandwich on the way. One arm in his coat, his hands go still on the collar, stone frozen. It’s very unlike from Krennic to come to him.

“Let him in, Mr. So.” he forces a smile as he takes down his coat.

His invitation is followed by the sound of quick and sure steps and a vacuum suddenly sucks out all the light and happiness from the room.  _ I am one with the Force... “ _ Chirrut, how are you today?”

_...the Force is with me. _ “Thank you, Orson, very well. And you?” he reaches out his hand and cold fingers folds around it.

“I haven’t been in your office yet.” walks around Krennic and somehow this makes Chirrut more uncomfortable. “You have some nice things. What is this? An ancient coin? The letters say... Amidala?”

“Yes, that is an ancient ducatoon from the planet Neboo.” Chirrut rises his brow. Of course Krennic has found  _ that _ one, form all the tokens. “Queen Amidala has a very interesting story.”

“Well, perhaps you can tell me over a drink, one day.”

“A drink?” Chirrut inhales and straightens his back. The idea is so strange he almost forgets to smile when he answers. “Of course. Let’s take a seat, please. How can I help you today, Orson?”

The leather of the couch rustles as Krennic takes a seat and Chirrut can hear him breathing. “This morning we opened up a path in the caves and I asked to send down a drone.” he says. Krennic isn’t really bothering to mask the dominance in his voice and the advantage he has, Chirrut thinks. “The drone found a nice stream of kyber crystal.” There’s a perfectly silent pause in which Chirrut holds his breath. “Chirrut, Chirrut, are you really so surprised?  I am not sure if because we found a stream or because I know it’s kyber.”

“If you know it’s kyber you must know its cultural value.” Chirrut manages to say when he feels his heart is beating again, however it isn’t beating strong enough to warm up his frozen body. Hope finally overwrites the unexpected doubt. Hope and faith that everything is as it has to be.  _ As the Force wills it. _ After all, it doesn’t matter who found it. It is there.  _ It's still there _ . Chirrut rises his eyes toward the ceiling as he can’t stop the joy rushing in his veins to lit up his face with a wonderful smile. “It’s the most important discovery!”

“As important as valuable.” takes back the words Krennic and his voice slowly pulls Chirrut in the vacuum. “If we start to mine it out and merchandise it, the kyber alone could cover the costs of the renovation. All of it. You wouldn’t have to worry, every corner will be painted, every artifact will be renovated, even the highest tower will be rebuilt.”

The words are syrupy sweet like honey and makes Chirrut’s heart sink.  _ The crystal _ . He smells victory and greed floating from the other man. “So that’s what you wanted all the time? The kyber?” he snaps, too irritated to keep up the chat. “It would be as if we were shedding all the blood to save the body.”

“Oh, my dear professor, such big words. You’ve been always a dreamer.” Krennic’s smile makes Chirrut feel like a rabbit rounded by a fox, who cannot move as basic instinct force him to pretend being dead. “It's just a stone after all. The Temple is for the believers, not for the stones. For the faith, what is so precious to you.” Krennic leans closer. “The renovation of the Temple may take decades, very likely we won’t see the end. But with the money we can get for those stones, the main hall could be renovated within a year. Within a year, ceremonies and prayers could be conducted, and the Temple would be opened to the public and filled again with the faithful. The flame of the faith, your faith, would flame again, high.”

The trap is laid by a cunning and expert predator and Chirrut falls in it unsuspectingly. The vision of the big hall dressed in the colours of Jedha, with the flags of the Temple of the Whills, the masters wearing black and red, the sound of prayers of the faithful, the tourists marching up the stairs like a river of the pilgrims of ancient times hits him like a dream he has cradled for a long time. He is so obscured by the illusion that even if he was not blind, he wouldn’t notice Krennic's smirking grin. The spell is so strong he hardly hears Krennic's farewell. “Think about it, Chirrut! Now I have to go, but I guess we'll meet in the temple soon.”

Time stretches and slows as Chirrut sits on the sofa, mesmerised. He stirs to the sound of the opening door and to Keyto, cleaning his throat. “Professor  Îmwe, if you don’t need me anymore today, I would leave.”

Guilt and shame slams into him hard enough to knock the breath out of him for long moments. He shakes his head and jumps up from where he was sitting the whole afternoon. “Mr. So,” his voice is full of determination. “...please arrange an audience for me with the Senate for tomorrow.”

Keyto sucks in the air. “It’s friday night, professor. I am afraid there is a very small chance that the Senate...

Chirrut doesn’t let him finish. “Than as soon as possible, for Monday morning.” he waves him away then changes his mind and calls after him. “In the meantime call Mr. Andor and tell him to come to my office and get me Senator Organa on the line.” when he doesn’t hear Keyto moving away he adds, sounding like steel. “Now, Mr. So! I’m sorry to ruin your evening plans, but I beg you to do that favor for me. I have wasted already lots of time.”

Later that evening, after Cassian left his office and Bail Organa put down the phone, Chirrut rushes out from the University, whistles for a taxi, and runs up on the Temple’s stairs. The plan is ready, they will work out the details, but the first step has to be done. A dull ache crawls in the back of his skull. The game is started. Inside he picks up the pace as he asks after Krennic. One of the guards,  _ a soldier _ , knows where he is and Chirrut finally finds him in the temporary tent serving as a lab.

“Chirrut?” turns Krennic his chair towards him as he enters. The surprise in his voice is clearly theatrical.

“Orson…” he is struggling to let out slowly the words that are about to explode out from his chest. “I don’t agree to sell, not the smallest uncia of that precious crystal.”

Krennic lets out a little sigh shaking his head, like he was waiting for that answer, however he was hoping for not to receive it. “I think you didn’t understand me well, Chirrut.” the chair cracks as Krennic stands up and his shoes tick loudly on the worned out stone. His voice is almost imperative. “Mining and sales are about to begin. The question is, you want your share or not?”

Chirrut snaps up his chin. “I will do everything I can, to prevent you from doing this. There won’t be any mining here! Not, as long as I live.” taps Chirrut the ground with his cane and clenches his fist around it.

“Will see.” says Krennic after a long pause and turns his back to walk out behind him. Chirrut hears the aligned steps of two soldiers joining him outside.

  
  
  


**************************************

 

Baze can’t sweep the grin off his face. The memories of the previous night are with him all day. He hadn’t expected that he will take such a delight in feeding Chirrut’s hunger. He shivered every time remembering how he pinned Chirrut down and on the thought how his moans were growing into low, long-drawn cries. He grinned wider at the mental image of what he would do to him when he got his hands on him next time.

Bodhi was confused, he didn’t understand why his boss was having that looney smile all day. He flushed every time Baze said “Good job, Bodhi! Very nice, Bodhi!” and sometimes he smiled back shyly.

Saturday was always a quiet day. They usually worked only a few hours in the morning to run through the bikes in preparation. This morning they are checking the latest idea of Bodhi about a modified tank, when a girl and a man walks in, however they don’t expect any customer. Baze lifts himself up from the ground. The girl is a bit younger than Jyn, he guesses, and the man, about Baze’s age, must be her father.

When the man steps out from the light coming from behind him Baze suddenly recognises the noble face, the raised cheekbone and the kind eyes flashing out from the oily skin he can see on the television almost every day. It’s senator Bail Organa.

“Hey, Baze! My old friend!” shouts the senator when he sees him opening his arms for a hug. Baze’s first surprise fades away in a second. After all, they  _ were _ very good friends, these past years don’t change anything about that.

“Bail, how are you?” he steps into Bail’s arm and they give some good slaps on each other's back laughing. “What are you doing in my garage?” Baze asks till laughing.

“My daughter, Leia, has been talking about  _ awesome _ , built-up choppers for some time now. My wife and me decided to give her a present on her 18th birthday, if she wants it so much. When I realized that you are the one, who are doing them, I wanted to come to meet you.” his posture is serene and his eyes are warm.  “I am not good in the subject of motorbikes, but I can tell it’s a very nice business you run here.”

Baze feels himself blushing and he laughs on himself in the privacy of his head. “Thank you, it’s very decent, yes. But congratulation to you! You ‘re a senator now!” he taps Bail’s shoulder.

“Oh, well. I am, thank you. There is still much to do.” he nods as a confirmation with a firm tone but his smile comes quickly back.  “But you know, I’m the same guy as before.”

It seems Bodhi takes good care of Leia and their heads are already deep in an engine so Baze invites Bail into the small office for a coffee. “So, Breha is your wife?” Baze busies himself with filling a mug with the still warm coffee. “I saw it in the news.” he glances at Bail. “I’m not surprised, everybody new that you will ask her hand sooner or later.” he smiles as he gives the mug to Bail.

“Was it as obvious?” Bail’s eyes are tender as he looks at him. “We were quite sure as well, that you and…” he doesn’t finish just cuts his words. “Anyway, it was Chirrut who told me you are back.” Baze actually not surprised. It’s quite normal, that they’ve been in touch ever since, they were friends, after all.  “I didn’t have time to visit you, but now, as I already mentioned, Leia wanted to come, so I told to myself, I have to come, too. We could arrange a dinner. Breha would be pleased to see you again.” he continues with an apologetic smile. Baze isn’t offended, Bail must be busy as a senator, and he didn’t show up his face in the past years neither. No need for apologies, he thinks, but it’s still good to have them.

“That’s sounds nice. Thank you.”

“Chirrut also told me that you have a daughter and she is one of his students?” Baze snorts and Bail smothers a laugh.

“He is very talkative, isn’t he? Yes, my  _ adopted _ daughter, Jyn, has her second year at the University.” pride makes warm his voice.

“Ah, adopted daughter? We didn’t know that.” Baze squirms. That sentence is very familiar, in a bad way, but he can’t recall why exactly. The faint sensation escapes when Bail goes on. “Breha wants to meet her too. We should arrange a dinner where she can also be there. Perhaps she and Leia could be friends.” he leans into Baze’s space lowering his voice. “She would need some good influence.”

Baze bursts out in laughter. “I’m delighted to hear it’s not only me who has a hard time with his daughter.”

Bail taps his shoulder with a cheerful sigh. “Well, she wants to start the University only next year, so she postponed these semesters. She wants to travel and  _ find herself. _ ” Bail rolls his eyes quite theatrical and Baze has to laugh again.

“You know, I think we should be grateful that they can do that.” he says with a shrug when he finished laughing.

“You are right, Baze, you are right.” Bail replies in a serious tone and his eyes linger on Baze a little longer than it’s comfortable.

The door slams open and little Leia jumps in his father’s arms surrounded by floating locks of hair and with Bodhi on her hills. “Daddy, daddy, look! I knew I have to make built my bike here.” she presses the quick sketch of Bodhi of a bike under his nose.

Baze steps closer to take look. “Hmmm. You want to make it shorter?”

“Yes.” Bodhi’s hands are flying in the air as he starts to explain. “Leia said she likes to drive outside of the city. So we can use wider wheels and a shorter body. It will be safe, quick and  _ sexy _ at the same time."

“Sexy?” protests Leia in a firm voice. “I don’t want a pink or red bike.”

“No. It’s going to be a real desert-rider.” he pops out his arm in the air showing the speed with a dreamy smile. “Golden brown as the sand around Jedha.” Leia blushes but Bodhi doesn’t see it because he turns to Baze. “Only one thing bothers me. I don’t know how to build this shorter suspension.” he confesses.

Baze takes the sketch in his hand to take a better look. “I know someone who can make it after mesure.”

“Oh, good, sounds good.” nods Bodhi.

“Well, I’m glad that I’m useful at least for something, kid!” he taps his shoulder, gently because despite Bodhi is strong on his own right, Baze’s hand covers his shoulder and half of his shoulder blade. Bodhi looks up with his puppy eyes and everybody laughs. They quickly make a deal and Bodhi keeps explaining to Leia as Baze guides Bail out.

At the door Bail turns to him. “I never thought we'd be talking about the future of our daughters once. Especially after the many nights we got drunk together and got into trouble.”

“Yeah, well it was you who always got in trouble.” Baze taps his shoulder. It seems they are tapping each other’s shoulders more than ever in the last thirty minutes. Baze doesn’t mind, the day can’t be better.

“It’s true,” Bail’s smile widens unrepentantly. “...but you were always there to stand with me. You know, we still need experienced men we can trust.” he says holding Baze’s lower arm firmly.

Baze considers it but only for a moment. “I’m done with that. I have other preferences now.” he thinks on Jyn. He has to protect her, he has to provide space to her to be able to have a life.

“I understand that.” Bail nods and continues after a long moment. “But whenever you change your mind, we can find you something interesting at the police, in the army, or elsewhere.”

“Thanks Bail, but no, thanks.”

“Alright then. I will call you about that dinner.” he proffers his hand and Baze shakes it. This is a good day, he thinks as he sinks back into the garage. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: date night again. :-)
> 
> If you don't want it, you can skip "that" part and continue from the **** stars. It's worth reading the endddd.

Chirrut was restless all Sunday. He spent the whole weekend with Cassian, making plans on every possible outcome and Cassian talked to his superiors several times. Chirrut had to prepare for the appointment with the Senate, it will be only for Tuesday morning, but at least he can meet them. Bail assured him of his and Senator Mothma’s support. They only have to wait now. That is the hardest part. They are ready and just have to wait for an opportunity. He was sure, the Force will provide one. And who says waiting can’t be a pleasure?

The pale winter sun is not strong enough, the shadows are long in the house. Chirrut lights some candles. He cannot see their light, but he likes their smell and the faint warm they give. He pulls in some curtains, lefts a dim light on. He is searching for some smooth jazz, something easy to listen when Baze drops by as planned, pizza in hand.

“Just in time!” says Chirrut still searching for music on the net.  

“I had to wait for the food.” Baze sets the box on the counter and shrugs off his coat. “It seems everybody in Jedha wants to have pizza today.” Baze steps behind Chirrut, still bending over the computer and touches his lower back. Chirrut leans in his touch giggling as Baze strokes across his hip and down, to cup his ass. “Are you hungry, Chiry?”

“You always ask this question…” Chirrut straightens and turns slowly, grabbing Baze’s arm, stepping closer to him. “...when you know exactly that I’m hungry in every way.” he gives him a hot, hungry kiss. Baze kisses back and Chirrut feels already dizzy. The fluster of the last few days, the awaiting for any action are tingling on the surface of his skin and spreading with every touch, filling his stomach with fizzling bubbles.

Baze rubs down his spine over his T-shirt and squeezes his ass again. “Love you.” he murmurs in Chirrut’s mouth.

Chirrut inhales the words and melts in Baze arms before patting them to move away. “Me too, but let’s eat first!”

Baze holds him still, doesn’t want to let him go and when he does, Chirrut knows this is exactly the same moment when Baze takes a good look on his V-neck T-shirt. 

“This T-shirt is…” Baze is searching for words while Chirrut preens with delight, waiting for the judgement. “...is...is...pink.” groans finally Baze.

“Pink? Yes.” tips his head Chirrut baring his throat. “It fits well with the colour of my skin, I was told.” Baze huffs a little laugh under his beard as he follows Chirrut who opens the box to sniff inside. Mozzarella, great!”

He grabs the box and they settle down on the couch in the living room, Chirrut next to Baze, one knee of his folded legs in Baze’s lap. He reaches a slice of pizza in Baze’s direction followed by a kiss on his beard what Baze corrects to a kiss on their lips.

“How was your day with Jyn?” Chirrut asks before he takes a big bite.

“Oh, she made me buy the half of the mall. I have no clue when she will wear all those clothes.” he licks the tomato sauce from the edge of his palm.

“Don’t underestimate her creativity.” Chirrut answers fighting with doughy cheese. “Why did she buy clothes? Is she ok?”

“Yeah, I think. She complained about how boring the research she has to do for you in the library, so thanks for that.”

Chirrut just hums as he has almost the entire slice in his mouth.

“She was restless in the last days. I’m not sure where does she spend her time, when she is not at the University  _ or _ with Cassian. Something is in the air, a change.”

Chirrut smiles to himself hided behind the pizza. Baze is also feeling it, no matter what he says. “Is it a good change, or a bad one?” he asks after swallowing.

“I don’t know yet.” Baze chews contemplating. “You know, I don’t like at all what is happening in Jedha.”

“You don’t like what is happening or you don’t want Jyn to be involved?”  Chirrut asks suddenly, and Baze stops chewing for a moment and shrugs.

“I think both.” he rubs Chirrut’s back and Chirrut turns to him mouth full again, listening. “I promised I will protect her and keep her safe and I will do that.”

Chirrut wipes his mouth then moves himself into Baze’s lap, hooking both arms around his neck. “What are you going to do for it?”

Baze smiles and wraps his arms around him to take a better look of his face. “I don’t know and I don’t want to think about it right now.” he pulls Chirrut closer and nibbles the smooth skin of his neck making Chirrut gasp. “Right now the question is, what am I going to do with you.”

“Ah, that, let’s figure out in the bedroom.” he whispers in Baze’s ears. Again Chirrut is so eager he feels the little tingles of it all over on his skin, like the pinch of electricity.

The bedroom, separated by a sliding door, is like the rest of the house, very simple. The floor is bare wood. There aren’t shelves or cabinets like in the living room, full of books, tangible works and antiquities. Here the only furniture is the comfortably big bed with soft duvet. The warm lights of the candles in the living room lights it gently.

Chirrut pushes Baze down to the edge of the bed, not even waiting for him to undress, he kneels down right in front of him to undo his shirt and give small kisses on his chest. He lifts his head to give a desperate kiss on Baze’s mouth but misses it and his tongue touches his beard. For a split of a second he thinks he has to practice this, to find Baze’s mouth at once, but forgets it right away when Baze cradles his cheek to tilt his head in a better position. It’s so good he can barely breath.

He opens Baze’s belt, pops the button on his pants and drew the zipper down only far enough to be able to expose Baze’s half hard shaft. Dizzy with want, he sits back on his hills and bends down to take Baze’s cock into his mouth. Baze wails from the sudden action but Chirrut doesn’t care. The smell of engine-oil, metal and Baze’s own fills his nose. He tastes salty but not in a bad way. Chirrut tastes him hungrily, with uncontrolled desire until Baze is hard like iron in his mouth.

He feels Baze’s hand in his hair, on his shoulder, hunching over him. “Chirrut, wait...ohhhgfuck...Chiry...” he pants. “Let me take this...oh... down at least, please...Chirrut.” He pulls off, as sloppy and wet as he can, and the sound makes his own cock twitch in his pants. He listens as Baze fights down his trousers and underwear but can’t wait until he steps out of them. He rises and pushes back Baze by his chest. He is probably leaning on his elbows, Chirrut guesses, tracing with his hands down on Baze’s abdominals and he gulps him down again.

He licks the head like a lollypop. Baze thighs are tense and he opens them as wide as the trousers around his ankle let’s him, trembling as Chirrut takes him deeper. He noses at the base of Baze’s length and for a second, he believes he will go mad, he adores so much that smell.

He wraps a hand around the base, working in steady rhythmic movements what he can’t reach with lips and tongue. He is still fully dressed and his own erection is twitching, tenting and making tight his pants but he can’t get enough from the curly hair his nose touches every time he swallows deep down Baze.

The noises Baze makes sound dragged from him, harsh and desperate, and that too, makes his stomach quivering and chest heaving. There are Baze’s hands again, cupping his face and lifting him up by the collar of his T-shirt. He has to let him out of his mouth. “Come, Chirrut, come!” Baze whispers hoarsely and Chirrut almost tears down his clothes feeling the warm and helping hands of Baze who holds him and helps him in the same time.

Baze pulls away but before Chirrut can protest, hands catches and throws him flat on his back on the bed. “I want you! Now!” Chirrut hears himself to whimper when he feels Baze weight shifting the bed. With a small growl Baze flips him, the world swings and Chirrut finds himself face down with Baze’s weight pressing him on the bed.

Baze slowly speckles kisses on his back grinding his hard length along the crease of his thigh. His cock is rubbing against the cool bed-sheet and he can’t wait anymore, not for that. Baze uses his knees to knock his tighs apart and he opens them happily into a wider stance. Baze’s hot tongue is licking against his perineum and he hears the little ‘tick’ as the lube uncaps.

Baze slides a finger inside him and Chirrut arches off the bed and into Baze’s hands with a groan. Baze works a second finger into Chirrut quickly and he makes another breathy, little whimper and thrusts his hips against Baze’s hand in earnest, not able to control his need mounting. “The things I’m going to do to you, Chirrut.” Baze whispers against his tight and Chirrut cries out and tries to turn over.

“Just do it Baze!” but Baze’s hand on his waist is keeping him down with an iron grip.

“You’ll be sore tomorrow if I don’t stretch you out. You are not as young anymore.” keeps him still Baze.

“Please, I don’t care...Baze...please. ” Chirrut whines but Baze works a third finger into him regardless and he squirms against the bed-sheet with a sob. He notices through the fog of urge Baze’s weight making the bed sink next to him. Warm hands help him to sit up and straddle in Baze’s lap. He is still too tight, Baze was right, Chirrut thinks as he lets the head of Baze’s cock slip inside him. He pushes his hands against Baze’s chest leaning with full weight on it. He knows this presses out the air from Baze, but he just doesn’t care. He tries to even and elongate his own breathing to relax his muscles and is rewarded by strong growls as he slides down inch by inch.

After a long exhalation Baze fills him full so he can let the titillating feeling spread out in his stomach and chest with a long guttural moan and he can finally  _ move _ . It takes a few thrusts to get the angle right, to plant his knees the way that feels best, and then Chirrut leans over and grabs Baze’s shoulders and digs his fingers in Baze’s hair. He sets a steady pace to feed the hunger in him for Baze’s hands and mouth all over and cock inside him.

Baze slides his hands under his tights to hitch him up and starts to thrust. “You are...agh... so beautif--fffuck..” Baze growls clenching his teeth and Chirrut whines. The firm, unmistakable slap every time their bodies connect drags Chirrut in a swirl and he gasps. “Harder!” he grits out. His hand is a demanding fist in Baze’s hair.  “Baze! Give it to me! Give it to me harder!”

“You are so eager!” Baze pats but he obeys and picks up the space until it’s too much and still not enough. Chirrut lets out a long, deep moan and pushes himself up on Baze chest, then reaches back to lean on Baze’s tight. He realises he hasn’t touched his own shaft and Baze haven’t touched it either and now it curves and snaps against his stomach with every thrust.

Baze holds his side tightly and sits up. Chirrut sets his leg to be able to cross his ankles behind Baze and a cry chokes on his throat. Baze is getting inside him deeper and a hot ball of pleasure is crowing with delight in the bottom of his belly as Baze rocks both of them in a merciless rhythm. Baze is tonguing his nipples and sucks his skin wherever he can reach. Chirrut wails, arching back until Baze is gripping him so tight it feels like he will crash his ribs. His hands claws Baze’s shoulder, pulls his hair, hard enough that forces out rumbling, deep growls from Baze. His own voice sounds hoarse and ragged in his ears as he spins higher.

A long, deep, uncontrolled moan emerges from his throat when he comes. Baze fucks him through it while he is spilling all over Baze and himself, still untouched and Chirrut lets himself to devour by sweet delight. The next thing he senses through the fog of pleasure is Baze, all over him: his body, his smell, his hair, his gasps and grunts and curses as he straddles above him stroking himself. Chirrut hears a voice he recognises as his own but strange in the same time saying “Come for me, Baze, my love! Show me how good it feels! Come all over me! Show me!” and Baze comes, soiling his belly in warm spurts with Chirrut’s name in his lips and pleasure explodes inside Chirrut.

He emerges later to the touch of Baze’s soothing hand and voice. “You are so beautiful and perfect… How can you be so beautiful and perfect?” he repeats this as a mantra and Chirrut replies with a kiss. “You are beautiful and perfect, you know that…” and he just rests in the feeling. Later they take a lazy shower and crawl back to the bed next to each other.

 

************************

 

Chirrut nestles himself against Baze’s chest and lets himself drawn by the feather-light touches of Baze’s fingertips and his deep voice as he talks about his days at the garage. Chirrut hums and drops in questions that interests him, like “What changes did he ask for?” “Where did the idea came from?” and questions that pleads Baze, like “How could that huge fuel-tank fit on?” or “How big is the wheel?”

He doesn’t mind if he doesn’t understand entirely the answer. He is just happy that he can let down his walls and he doesn’t have to play. He can be just himself, vulnerable, enjoying the present moment. He never allowed that to himself before, with his lovers, but with Baze it is simple and safe. He is the one who can lead him to the farthest edges and Chirrut is certain if he jumps in the depth, Baze is weather already there to hold him, whether he follows to catch him.

He doesn’t like to sleep with someone else, because his sleep is easy and usually he ends up waking up in the middle of the night to work with his earphones on, to slip back to bed before dawn. With Baze it’s not a problem. It even turned out that he doesn’t wake up with the first rays of the sun when they sleep together. With Baze on his side, he almost always wakes up too late, to get himself together at the last moment, in a rush and laughing, to be on time. Baze had to set his alarm.

Now Chirrut is struggling to keep himself on the superficies of wakefulness, so he mutters a question. “What kind of people are visiting the garage?”

“Every kind of, from young to old.” rumbles Baze stroking his ribs. “Oh, yesterday Bail came in with her daughter, Leia, to ask for a new chopper for her. It was nice to see him.”

“Oh, yeah? She likes engines and cars.” Chirrut rubs his cheek against Baze’s chest.

“You know her?” asks Baze with a small surprise.

Chirrut lets out a small huff meaning a laugh. “I know her since she was a baby. I’m her godfather.”

“I didn’t know that you and Bail are such a good friends.”

Chirrut is almost drifted in sleep and he let his guards down a good hour ago. He doesn’t notice the sharpness in Baze’s voice and the stiffness in his body. “He is an old friend  _ and _ he is in the senate now, it’s better if I keep a good relationship with him…” 

Baze sits up and Chirrut makes a protesting but effortless sound. “When I told Bail that Jyn is my adopted daughter...you know what he said?”

There is something wrong, Chirrut senses and starts to enfold himself from the mushy comfort he cradled himself in. “No, I don’t know.” he says with precaution. “What did he say?”

“He said:” the tamped voice alarms Chirrut even more and he opens his eyes. “‘ _ We didn’t know’ _ …The same thing you said.”

“It was just the twist of tongue…” rises Chirrut to his elbow reaching out for Baze.

“You and Cassian…” Baze’s voice is full of anger “...are still involved, in the resistance... working for him, for Bail.” Chirrut can feel the shift of the bed as Baze stands up. “What are you? Spies?” he splits.

Chirrut feels his heart sink down and fell out from his body. “No, nothing like that...You know that Jedha and the people are important for me… I couldn’t… I can’t let…”

Baze doesn’t let him finish. “That’s what this is all about?” he filters the words through his teeth. “You hinted I should join, Bail asked me straightforward to join. I said no… So you are with me to drag me in? You fuck with me to drag me in?” he shouts and Chirrut can feel dark waves streaming off him.

“No, I’m not...I don’t....” Chirrut whispers and tilts his head to listen as Baze puts his clothes on.

“You arranged everything quite well.” Baze spits. ”You called me in the University for that? You used Jyn?”

“No, it was just a coincidence.” Chirrut kneels up and reaches out for Baze desperately. “Please, Baze! I didn’t even know that you are the guardian of Jyn…Please... Baze, love….come back to the bed...let’s discuss this…”

“I can’t believe you pretend…” the last words crack in his mouth and he walks out the room.

Chirrut jumps out of the bed and follows him. “I don’t pretend anything.” he falters.  “You should know me better.” he wants to sound firm but his voice is pleading, breaking and he cannot to do anything about it. His mind is spinning. Baze is leaving. He is leaving him again. Why can’t he keep him? Why he isn’t able to find the words to make him stay? Why can’t he put up a mask, a play? Why is he just tripping after him with outreached arms like a miserable, blind fool, who he actually is and has always been?

“I don’t know…” come the bitter words from Baze.

“You are going to leave me again in the middle of the night?” that’s the only thing he manages to say and he wishes to bit it back, but he can’t. He knows he is lost, he knows he is beaten. After a long pause Baze slams the door behind him. Chirrut doesn’t feel anything for a long moment, then, abruptly, a burning pain cracks up his chest, his knees go weak under him and he flops on the ground behind the door. _ I am one with the Force and the Force is with me _ . He seeks for the Force but there is nothing just his broken breathing, the sounds locked in his throat and the burr of a motorcycle growing to life outside to quickly fade away in the distance.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for everything!

Bodhi curls up lazily on the well used bed of the cheap motel in the outskirt of the city. Galen leans his back against the cool wall next to him. “Bodhi, this is very important. I have to smuggle out this info somehow.” he says.

Bodhi doesn’t move. In Galen’s world everything has a meaning, every act has power. When Bodhi is with him he isn’t just a lost soul wandering around, but his life has a purpose. No matter if they're on the rooftop of the First Order’s base, in an alley or in such a forgotten motel like this, it’s so easy to have faith when they are together, listening to his deep, calm and kind voice. But now this is different. “Who can I trust? Who can I trust this info on?” Galen is asking him.

He sits up in the bed and shrugs. “Give it to Baze. He will know what to do with it. He has still some connections.” Bodhi’s big eyes are wide open. Despite the daylight the blinking neon rising in front of the entrance lights up the room in a strange rhythm and colors with orange the white of his eyes.

Galen turns his head to look at him with a soft smile that bends only slightly his lips, and reaches out for his cheek. “Would you give it to him, if I ask you to?” Bodhi leans in the touch and nods.

  
  


*************************************

 

The world is a mirage. Sounds are coming through a glass wall, the vibrations of bodies touching objects are blunt, scents are dull. The phone is playing again the tune he sat for Baze. Since noon Baze called him every thirty minutes, precisely. How many call is that? Ten? He hasn’t got the strength to answer, yet. Perhaps now, he will have. That’s why he came out from the Temple.

The previous night Chirrut just laid on the bed, without moving a limb, staring into nothing. When morning came he got up and went through the day like a puppet moved by invisible cords. He is standing on the stairs, without a coat, that the cold can keep him awake. The phone stops ringing, it’s too late to pick it up he notices with a sigh. When he wants to push it back to his pocket it starts ringing again and he picks it up by surprise.

“Chirrut, Chirrut!” shouts Baze in his ear. “You answered!” Yes, he did. He did swipe the screen but he can’t let out a word, not a sound. “Are you there?” Chirrut doesn’t want hope to rise in his chest, he fights to push it back. The effort is so strong it dominates every other sense, every other act. “I hope you are there and you hear me…I just want to tell you…” Baze is struggling with the words, seeking always for the simplest, easiest, shortest way to express himself. “I just want to tell…” Perhaps he shakes his head or rubs his face, thinks Chirrut. He is gripping the phone so tightly that it cracks a bit. “It was a mistake to leave like that last night.”

As if a dam would open, the words begin to flow out of Baze. “I have no right to judge you. I have not the slightest right to question what you are doing, what you have done in the past years. And most of all I don’t have the slightest right to doubt your feelings.” Pause. The hope awakens so strongly, it almost prises open Chirrut's body. “I just want to get rid of this senseless fight, against the First Order, but I’m not able to.” The silence between the words is unbearable. “It’s like a dark shadow that follows me everywhere.” The wind is cold. “But it’s not your fault.” The passersby are chatting. “Are you there?” The whisper is soft.

“Yes.” Chirrut presses out the word of his throbbing throat. Baze doesn’t react for a long moment as if it was a surprise.

“Chirrut, please, let’s talk. I beg you.” Chirrut knows there is nothing he wants more than to talk, but can he allow it to himself? Wouldn’t it tear him apart? “Come to me when you’re finished tonight, I‘ll be there. Or I can go to your place. Please!”

Chirrut  is just opening his mouth to speak when a familiar voice breaks through the glass wall, separating him from the sound of the true, living, perfectly functioning world totally careless about his existence. “Chirrut, you are here! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” It’s Krennic. “Come, we found something in the cave again! You have to see it! Come, hurry!”

Time. He earned time to reply. He turns toward Krennic and says to the phone “I have to go now.” and hangs down.

The temperature is not warmer inside than outside. He follows Krennic’s footsteps as he blabbing about something incredible he won’t believe. Chirrut should be happy, overjoyed. He seeks for that feeling, the feeling he has every time the research and renovation is advancing. Today, nothing is there.

The walls of the maze are echoing their footsteps as there were more people in there, not just the two of them. The words of Krennic are floating back and forth. They turn corner after corner and Chirrut doesn’t count his steps. He has the odd sensation they turn to left instead of going straight forward, but he doesn’t care. He has to  _ see _ what Krennic wants to show. He reminds himself that he has to be prepared. The game has started, he already revealed his cards, now it’s Krennic’s turn.

Krennic steps aside and Chirrut’s cane hits the wall in front of him. “It’s a dead-end. I was sure we made a wrong turn.” he says. Suddenly the sounds become clear, the scents are strong and all his senses are sharp. Two other footsteps stop nearby and he realises it’s too late.  _ I am one with the Force and the Force is with me _ .  _ There is no past, no future, just the present moment. Focus.  _ Chirrut turns around to face Krennic.

“I’m afraid it’s a dead-end only for you.” says Krennic  followed by the soft clack of a gun. “Why are you so surprised?” Krennic asks almost laughing. Chirrut tries to even his breathing. All his muscles resist the vacuum always surrounding Krennic, which is now as giant as the pull of a huge, dead star. “You know, first I thought your little restauration worth nothing but you were so engaged we thought that maybe you are right, maybe there is something interesting to be found here. That’s why we started to watch you closely. Every year one or two things were found, smaller or a bigger, with more crystals. And you worked so arduously, so hard to convince the Senate to give you more money, created the found, worked on the restauration. We didn’t have to do anything, just lay back and you offered us what we wanted. This is all because of you.” 

Chirrut hears in his voice he is grinning, all teeth. He clenches his fists. “The crystals aren’t yours, they are the heritage of Jedha.” Chirrut snaps sharply trying to hold back his anger and all that dark and heavy energy that rolls out of him to disappear around Krennic.

“You are such an idealist, my dear Chirrut.” Krennic sighs, shaking his head. “The Force guides me, and all that  _ bullshit. _ The peace march was a good occasion to arrange your arrest and convince the Senate that you are a threat to the balance Senator Mothma is craving for. She doesn’t know, there is no balance, just power. But arresting you was not enough, because you just can’t give up. You and your friend…”

_ ‘Cassian!’  _ thinks Chirrut and steps back as if Cassian was behind him.

“...Mr. So,...” Krennic sounds sour and scornful and Chirrut can’t help to let out a relieved huff “...with his pedant voice digging his nose in  _ everything _ . And you,  _ you _ just can’t shut your mouth up!” Krennic raises his voice evenly to shout with the last word than calms himself. “You asked and received an audience tomorrow with the Senate to tell them we are up to something.”

“I did, and I will tell them everything. You can’t stop me.” Chirrut says low and vehement, fist holding his cane against his body strongly, chin tilted up to look somewhere above Krennic’s head.

“I’m afraid I can. You’re Force is betraying you.” Krennic grins again satisfied.

Chirrut takes a big breath, _ I am one with the Force and the Force is with me _ , and lets it out slowly. “It never does.”

“Oh, really?” Krennic is laughing as Chirrut had just told the joke of the century. “I tell you the scenario. Tomorrow I will send in drones to make pictures of the maze and they will find your dead body.” Chirrut hitches a breath. ”Oh, yes, yes, I know, very sad.” he sounds very concerned. “However, the restoration will be suspended and the Temple will be closed down during the investigation that will last one, two or as many years as we need to mine all the kyber. I will remember you every time we destroy another scroll or medallion, figurine or anything we will find.”

He keeps a pause, as if he is waiting for Chirrut to say something. But Chirrut doesn’t speak. He tries to reach beyond his anger and to calculate from the sounds of breathing of the two other men their distance.

“The best part is yet to come.” Krennic continues casually. “It will turn out that the responsible for your merciless murder is the same rebellion team who committed the attack during the fundraising gala. What’s their name?” Chirrut wasn’t afraid, fear couldn’t reach him until this moment. His stomach twitches, his jaw clenches. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it well,” Krennic talks like he is comforting a child. “...the Rogue Squad. The power of law will strike down upon them. All your little friends will be arrested and put in jail in far away planets, including some members of the senate and your new lover, who despite of he is umpteenth in the line seems to be the most permanent.” Krennic hums thoughtfully and Chirrut blood freezes. “He was a good choice considering you always prefered stamina. Everyone has a different taste, after all.”

Chirrut moves. “No, please!” he whispers. “He is not the member of the Rogue squad.” He doesn’t recognise his own voice. It’s empty, without anger, without fear. It’s like a bottomless pitch, a hole in the ground. Without light, without hope. Just as the world feels like since last night.

“Oh, my poor Chirrut…” Krennic now sounds really worried. “...everybody knows he  _ was _ a member. Miss Erso made it clear.” Chirrut moves again. Jyn’s name feels as a second blade in his heart. “But do not fear, we have heart, my dear doctor Imwe. Miss Erso can return to his father, back to the Order...if she regrets her foolish sins. After all we can’t kill everybody who plays with or patience, as you said, of course in another context.”

“Please, Orson...doctor Krennic,” Chirrut is begging. He would kneel down if Krennic asked for it. “...you don’t need to do that. Please, I would do anything.” He stands their firmly, his face turns in Krennic’s direction with chest heaving.

“Oh, that is very touching.” Krennic sighs when he’s finished laughing. “You didn’t beg for your life but you beg for others. What a sacrifice and a noble act that would be.” Krennic backs a few steps. “I wish you were at our side, but my superiors had enough of you and want to see you dead. After all everybody can be replaced, even you. For example, young Mr. Andor, I’m sure he can be convinced.”

“So what are you going to do? You shoot me?” It’s a challenge, it’s a provocation.

“Oh, we are not barbarians. You are going to be stubbed.” Krennic waves his hand in Chirrut’s direction and his voice snaps. “Get him!”

_ Good! They have to come closer for that. _ Footsteps. The two men moves closer.  _ I am one with the Force _ . He sidesteps the one coming from the right and pushes him against the wall behind him. A blade slips on the stone and a head smacks on the wall. Chirrut can’t help but feel a hint of victory. The other one arrives from the back. Chirrut moves left again, blocking a strike with his arm, grabbing and twisting the man’s hand.  _ And the Force is with me _ . Chirrut turns out the blade from his grip and thrusts into his bicep. When he backs there is an ugly snort as the man pulls out the knife from his arm. Chirrut braces himself against the wall waiting for the next attack.

“Oh, come on!” Krennic cries out with all his dissatisfaction. “He is blind  _ and _ alone. It’s me who have to do everything?”

There is two blunt  _ pops _ in Chirrut’s ears and exactly two blunt punches on his chest. The weird thing is that there is no pain, only his knees go weak, his shirt becomes damp by some liquid with a metallic scent, warm and sticky to the touch. His legs don’t carry his weight any longer. He can still feel as he collapses and slides down to the hard stone floor. Then there is nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a chap, because I realised one more won't be enough.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is not less intense as the previous ones. More action, more drama, more feelings, more of everything! Enjoy!
> 
> Warning: mention of PTS.

Night has fallen and covered the empty street with blanket of silence. The moon shines on the naked trees, a cat passes under the yellow circle of the streetlamps, heading to one of the yawning front-door. Everything is calm outside but not in him, not in Baze.

He sits on the couch. Since last night panic, slamming in waves, blurs his thoughts. Memories of the past mixing with images of present run in his mind like a senseless soap opera. Chirrut walking in crossfire, Jyn in the middle of an explosion, Chirrut in a circle of troopers, fighting with men in mask, Jyn’s body on the ground. All he has known as PTS after war comes back, the visions, the sounds in his head, fast heartbeat, shortness of breath, irrational fear and the worse, futility.

The house has been never cleaner. He wasn’t able to leave it the whole day. After a sleepless night, in the morning, he called Bodhi to ask him to run the shop alone. When Bodhi wanted to say something, he said: ‘ _ Not now _ .’ and just hang up. He felt, without anything to do, he would go crazy, so he began to clean up. Still, he found himself standing frozen with the vacuum cleaner in his hand, or started by the water running out from the sink to pull him back to reality.

He can’t believe he was  _ jealous _ to Cassian. He is a  _ spy _ . This is even worse. He feels every wound again. Every scar burns, itches or hurts. The thick files about Chirrut, Galen was talking about. All the interviews Chirrut gave, how he spoke about Jedha and the resistance. Bail with his offer. It becomes all clear now. How couldn’t he see that? Chirrut never stopped. Only Chirrut didn’t left, he stayed here. Can he blame Chirrut for the same things he did? For feeling the same way? For fighting for the same goal but in a different way? For still fighting?

About noon he felt stable enough to call Jyn and Chirrut. He just wanted to hear their voices, that they are alive. Jyn texted back to him, that she is busy, so it was a half relief. Chirrut didn’t give any sign. He knew he shouldn’t worry, but he couldn’t do else. Terror, panic, pictures of Chirrut covered with blood haunted him. It was a salvation when Chirrut finally picked up his phone. Baze didn’t mind he didn’t speak much. He was ok, it was enough.

Jyn came home an hour ago. He said to her that he was ok and Jyn pretended to believe it. She said Bodhi wanted something important but Baze waved her down. Later. Everything can wait.  _ Later _ . He has to focus on breathing, on reality. And when he can breathe, he has to figure out how to tell all this to Chirrut. He will listen, Baze knows it, he will listen when finally he lets him speak. He will let him speak.

He jumps from the couch when the doorbell rings and crosses the hall with big steps. It’s Cassian at the door. “Good evening, Mr. Malbus!” his smile is a bit tired. Baze just hums and looks behind him, than on the front yard and then further on the street where Cassian’s car is parking. Cassian follows his gaze confused. “Mr. Malbus?”

Baze glances his wild eyes on him. “Chirrut didn’t come with you?” he asks desperately.

“Chirrut? No. He told you he will come with me?” Cassian rises a surprised brow. “Actually I haven’t seen him since…” he can’t finish as Jyn stomps down the stairs to stop at the door.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why don’t you let him in, Baze?” she asks and she only earns a tired and lost look from Baze.

“Mr. Malbus. What happened?” Cassian frowns on him. “Did he said he will come with me? When did you last speak?” he puts his hand on Baze’s shoulder which tears him out from his head.

He takes a big breath, his words are hesitant. “I called him about five. He didn’t promised anything, he didn’t promised to come...but I hoped…he said he had to go and hang up so quickly…”

“Where was he?” Cassian grip is stronger on his shoulder and through the fog covering his mind he thinks there is panic emerging in Cassian’s voice. “At the University? At the Temple? At home? On a street? What did he said exactly?”

“He said he has to go, because...because…” Baze tries hard to focus. When they spoke it didn’t seem to be important what was happening around Chirrut. “Somebody called him, somebody was looking for him...and he hang up.” His throat squeezes as he looks up to Cassian. “It was Krennic.”

“Krennic?” hisses Cassian. They stare at each other for a long moment. Cassian fishes out his phone from his pocket and  without a word calls a number. Jyn puts his chin on Baze’s shoulder to hear better. He lets it rang out for a long time and when there is no response he calls it again. A heavy weight sits on Baze’s chest as he waits for a relieved look from Cassian. Instead the young man’s face turns paler as it  was before. “He doesn’t pick it up. I call Keyto.” he turns just slightly away fist clenched next to his side.

“Hey, Keyto! Do you know where is Chirrut?” he asks from the phone. Baze gets goosebumps but not because of the cold night of Jedha. Cassian hums to the phone and looks up when he hangs up. “Keyto said he went to the Temple in the afternoon. I was there about six, but I didn’t see him.” he finishes with a small huff.

Baze steps back to get his coat. “Let’s go!” he is out of the house and Cassian moves with him. “Stay here Jyn and try to call him. If you reach him, just call one of us.” They take Cassian’s car in a silent agreement and Cassian steps on the gas.

The passers-by jump away as Cassian pulls across the narrow streets of the Old Town at high speed. He doesn’t bother finding a parking space, he simply stops right in front of the huge building, one wheel on the stairs. The slender towers of the Temple rise to get lost in the complete darkness of the night sky. Cassian waves his badge to the soldiers standing in the colossal gate and asks them if they have seen Chirrut. After a confused silence and a small chat on the com unit the answer is no.

Baze follows Cassian who is running towards the tent of the temporary lab telling curses to himself. “I hope he’s in the lab working on something with a muted phone.” He drops the words back to Baze above his shoulder. Baze has always known the Temple from outside, but this is not the time to admire the slim pillars climbing up in incredible heights. They reach the tent but despite their hope it’s empty. Cassian looks around desperately.

“Not here.” grumbles Baze. “I think Krennic said something about the cave?” it’s half a statement, half a question.

Cassian tells some more curses and he taps alive a screen with jerky hands to make the standing by drone with the camera to rise and to float into the maze. “It’s too big, if he is in there, it’s quicker with the drone to check…” he says as they both stick on the monitor as the camera’s lamp throws its light out on the fragmented stone floor and the sinister walls turn after turn.

Cassian drives through the main road to find the cave’s door locked down. They both let out desperate sounds. He moves the controller to turn around to search the other paths that were designed to those who don’t know the way, get lost. They both hold their breath and catch for air when they run out of it as Cassian floats left and right for long minutes.

The image suddenly stops and Baze can’t do anything just stare at the screen. There, on the ground, in the middle of a dark pool, there, there lays Chirrut’s curled up body. What happens next, is just a series of flashing images in Baze’s mind behind the hot fear pulsing in his veins and the cold sweat running down his spine. Cassian's black shoe-sole. Echos of their hurried steps. Cassian's voice as he makes a call. Their hands pulling Chirrut's cold body. Blood. Small relief as they feel a weak pulse. Cassian’s incomprehensible and dull voice again. Chirrut's almost weightless body in his arms. Sirens of the ambulance car. And finally the hospital's waiting room, where Chirrut disappears between the hands of the doctors and he stays there on trembling foot, sweating, covered with blood.

 

****************************************

 

The corridor smells of disinfectant and medicine. The lights are sharp. Cassian hasn’t stopped making calls since they’ve arrived while Baze is just sitting there, feeling useless or feeling nothing at all. He doesn’t stand up when Bail Organa arrives with a troop of the Jedhan army who spread out on the corridor. Bail greets Cassian, they change a few words, than he sits silently next to Baze. Cassian stops making calls and leans against the opposite wall. They are waiting.

Somewhere after one o’clock in the morning a doctor steps to them and they all gather around him. “We succeeded to take out the two bullets and he is alive.” relive should rise but they know that he isn’t finished. “If he survives the next 24 hours, there is hope. We keep him in sleep for the next 72 hours to give a chance to his body to regenerate.”

“I’m really sorry for what happened, Baze!” says to him Bail when the doctor leaves them. Baze just nods and stairs the ground in front of his shoes. “We all knew there is a risque, but I’ve never thought…” he doesn’t finish and Baze keeps quiet. “We will find out what happened, we will find the one who pulled the trigger.”

Baze looks up to Bail. “Tell me what’s going on! What is it all about?” His voice is more stable that he thought he could manage. Bail looks at Cassian and Cassian looks back. Two nurses chat on the other side, but there is nobody in the waiting room beside the soldiers and them. Bail shrugs, steps closer and lowers his voice.

“Cassian is a captain in the Jedhan army working undercover to find evidence against the First Order. Chirrut is helping him as a civil resistant.” Baze’s mouth turns into a thin white line but Bail keeps the eye contact. “Krennic told to Chirrut he wants to sell the crystal they have found.” Baze takes a deep inhale. “Probably for the Order or to other customers we don’t know yet. We prepared further action but it seems we didn’t think of every possibility.” Bail voice is full of regret. “I really didn’t think the situation was so serious. We should have been more careful.”

Baze is dizzy and his T-shirt is wet with sweat. He hasn’t slept since more than forty hours now. “Excuse me!” he turns around and goes to the next restroom behind the farest door, his knees are giving out so he holds onto the walls and he throws up.

  
  


*********************************************

 

Baze feels as if he hasn’t been home in years. All he wants is to have a nice, long shower, close the door of his bedroom and sleep forever. The doctor said three days, but it took almost seven days to Chirrut to become conscious.

The last week Baze passed in the hospital. Chirrut was in the intensive care which meant only family members could visit and none of them were that. Baze stayed, he didn’t want to miss when he woke up. Cassian passed every day and forced him to go home, to take a shower and get some sleep while he stayed. Shower and change was ok, but he couldn’t stay at home to sleep. He slept on the chairs of the waiting area or sometimes on a bed, when one of the nurses got pity on him.

Every time he went home Bodhi was there chivying Baze to listen to him. Every time Baze turned him down saying “Not now. Later. Please.” Bodhi was every time disappointed and Baze couldn’t understand what can be so important. To tell the truth he couldn’t care less. He didn’t care for the complaining customers, the unprocurable parts, nor would he care if the garage burnt down. Not. Now. At the end Bodhi left him a pendrive and he had to promise he will look at it. He promised than showed the black thing on the table in the middle of the living room, and drove back to the hospital.

Usually he was sitting in the main waiting room of the floor following the ebb and flow of the visitors and hospital staff. He often heard people asking about doctor Îmwe and watched them leave when they weren’t allowed to see him. Sometimes he forced out a few words when a long not seen friend of a common and long forgotten past spotted him out. At other times he was standing against the wall  in front of the intensive care or was wandering around taking a good stock of the soldiers. They were there to guard Chirrut. Too late, Baze thought, but he learned every face.

The Temple was closed down by the police so Jyn had time to spend and she spent some with him, some who knows where. She tried to make him eat with her in the canteen of the hospital with very little success.

On the late afternoon of the six day the doctor said that Chirrut was awake and his condition was stable. He could enter to him the next day only after the police debriefed him. Baze tried to center himself, he tried to figure out the words he would say, but his mind was empty and against all efforts, his stomach was trembling.

The room was clean and white. The window, facing the city,  filled the room with the pale winter light. The doctor allowed in the room some flowers sent by concerned friends. They were fighting with the scent of the hospital. Chirrut didn’t turn toward his approaching steps. He was staring on nothing particular in the opposite corner of the room. His mouth formed a thin line, this was all that showed that he knew Baze was there.

Baze stopped at the side of the bed smoothing his hands over his T-shirt and wiping them in his jeans. He looked over Chirrut. His skin had lost its golden shine, he was pale, bandages covering his chest, peeking out of the blanket. He seemed to be small and broken with all the monitors, sensors, arterial catheters and nasal cannula.

Chirrut didn’t say a word, just kept staring in nothing. Baze was not able to speak as guilt and shame filled his entire being and his heart slowly broke into pieces. “How are you?” he cracked the silence with shaky words.  _ I left him, I didn’t supported him, it’s all my fault. _

The silence following his words was thick. Chirrut didn’t respond in any ways. He stayed still and it felt like an accuse. His breathing was short and shallow, sometimes he swallowed that made his throat bob. One of the machines beeped shortly.

“Chirrut...I…” Baze tried to catch the rushing words in his head. “Chiry…” this made Chirrut face flicker for a moment and he closed his eyes as an instinct to close out the world.

“I’d like to rest now.” words came without expression. That’s all he said on a small and frail voice. His face was as motionless as if his lips had never smiled before. It hurt. It hurt and Baze was suddenly satisfied. That was what he deserved from the beginning.

With a nod, Baze whispered. “All right.” He could only ask for forgiveness, he could not force it. He didn’t deserve it at all but he knew that he would keep asking for it. He left the room, the hospital and sat in his car.

He feels as if he hasn’t been home in years. He parks the car on the front yard. The woman who lives next door arrives home pushing a baby carriage. A food delivery car stops a few houses ahead. A normal day. Utterly normal. Although everything has changed.

The house was warm filled with the scent of home. Baze inhaled it deeply. The small corridor at the entry was dim but he doesn’t switch the light on. He painted the walls, he gave the new handrail to the stairs, he made the small furniture to sit on but he looks around as if he were here for the first time.

He shakes his coat off and hangs it up then goes to the kitchen to drink some water. He stops in the middle of the third one. The house seems to be empty, no sign of Jyn. He does as he has planned, takes a long shower, closes the bedroom’s door and climbs to the bed to sleep forever.

Sleeping forever is not as easy. He just tosses and turns around and when he dozes he has graspless but creepy dreams. After a while he just lies above the duvet and stairs to the ceiling. He gets up and goes down to wander around in the living room. He looks out to the street. It’s still not late, but the street is empty as it used to be at this time of the evening.

Baze is restless. The house is too quiet. If Jyn had come home, he'd be awakened. The walls are thin and somehow, Jyn is unable to move around undetected. He checks her room anyway. She is not there. Probably she is with Cassian. Good for her.

The bed springs of the bed crack when he dips down. He looks around in the room.  The posters on the wall are a little creased, a skirt hangs on the outside of the cupboard, make-up boxes, perfumes and all kinds of stuff Baze doesn’t recognise covers the little table next to it, pillows are on the ground and Jyn’s open laptop on the bed, next to him. The black pendrive Bodhi gave him the other day peeks out from the USB port. The screen is black but it blips awake at the touch of a button. He navigates to the USB drive to click on the icon and waits.

Suddenly the screen goes dark, then a square opens at the center of the screen and inside the square a little animation plays. Belatedly he switches on the micro and jumps a little when he recognises Galen Erso’s voice. Dry, objective, scholarly but him. The film is brief, only a few minutes. When it’s over Baze picks up his phone and dials Bodhi’s number. A few rings later he picks up.

“Hey, boss. Did you take a look on the pendrive?”

“Yes, I did.” Baze rumbles into the speaker. “What the  _ hell  _ is this?”

“Galen gave it to me. He wanted to leak out the info before it’s too late.” Bodhi says almost pleading.

It takes some moment for Baze to understand the meaning of the words. “Jyn is with you?” he asks after.

“Of course not!” says Bodhi offended.

Baze says quickly good-by and dials Cassian number. “It’s me, Baze. Is Jyn with you?” he shouts to the phone as soon as Cassian picks up.

“Mr. Malbus? No, she is not with me. I drove her home at about five.” says Cassian. “She is not at home? What happened?”

“Cassian… come over, I have something you need to see.” he stands up and grabs the laptop with him. “Bring Bail, if you can. NOW!”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We arrived to the end of the story. It’s a tiny bit longer than the previous ones, I hope you don’t mind!

They are all staring at the screen as Galen’s voice explains how is it possible to convert the energy inherent in a small crystal to make an explosion, how the bomb works.

“That’s not good.” Bodhi summarizes simply what they all see and hear but don’t have the right words to express or just don’t have the courage to say them. Bodhi arrived ten minutes before Cassian and Bail. He knew that something important was going on and he didn’t want to miss it.

“At least we know what they need the crystals for.” adds Bail. He stands there stoic and calm, despite of the hour and despite he was probably jumped out of bed to come here. “The Order is already strong and they want to be stronger. Such a weapon would quickly decide the battle. No battle would be needed at all.”

They digest the meaning of the last words in silence. The Empire already took so much from Jedha, from the people, now the First Order follows on its track and wants to take what remained. Cassian lets out an angry huff. “I understand now. For Krennic the crystal worth anything. Even to shoot down Chirrut.”

“Krennic!” hisses Baze. “It was Krennic?” His brow furrows and his fists clench on his side as they were clenching around Krennic’s throat.  

“Yes. Chirrut told everything to the police.” Cassian explains slowly. “Krennic had a nice little plan. Kill Chirrut, close down the Temple to be able to mine out as much crystal they need. If Chirrut hadn’t survive, then we would be all accused with the murder and we would all be in jail already.”

“Why haven’t you caught him yet?” Baze asks desperately his blood pumping behind his skull. “He must be arrested!”

“He disappeared.” answers Cassian on a low voice avoiding to look in Baze’s eyes.

Bail crosses his arms in front of his chest. “After this video I am sure that he is where the mining is.”

“You mean he’s in the Temple?” asks Cassian.

“I call immediately Senator Mothma to mobilise the Jedhan army to arrest them.” nods Bail reaching for his phone, but Cassian rises a hand.

“Let’s think this over!” everyone looks at him confused.

“Why should we waste the time?” rumbles Baze. He is disordered and lost. They are standing here,  _ doing nothing  _ while Krennic is out there. Krennic, who dared to raise a hand on Chirrut. He clenches his fist so hard that his knuckles turn white and his nails dig in his skin.

“I want to have Krennic between my hands, believe me…” calms him Cassian. “...but if we strike down and they are not in the Temple, we can’t keep it in secret, the news will spread out quickly and they will hide. We don’t want that, do we?”

“So what is your suggestion, captain?” asks Bail and Baze snatches up his head to this word. Captain Andor, it’s still strange to hear.

“I go there to check it.” shrugs Cassian.

“I go with you. Four eyes can see more than two.” steps up Baze.

“Me too, I’ll go with you.” says Bodhi on a very calm voice. Baze puts his hand on his shoulder.

  
  


*************************************

  
  


The ride is almost the same as the one they took about a week-ago, except now, no one is on the streets, no one climbs the ancient stairs connecting the streets of the Old Town. Cassian drives carefully, Bodhi is quiet on the back seat, half asleep. Baze envies him. A nervous energy is pulsing behind his eyes. Jyn hasn’t pick up her phone ever since.

Cassian stops the car on a narrow street before they reach the Pilgrim square in front of the Temple. They sneak closer in the cover of the alleys. On the last corner Cassian stops and pushes the entrance of a house and looks back above his shoulder. “Come, “ he whispers. “we go up to the roof.” Baze and Bodhi looks at each other but follows him without any comment.

Baze crouches down behind the edge of the plain roof, between Cassian and Bodhi to look through the ramp. The moon is high, shining bright. The silhouette of the robust walls, the slim towers are somber shadows in the night sky and the chain the police put on to close down the crime scene glints in the dim light.

Cassian fishes out a tiny telescope from his pocket and scans around. Darkness is stronger than the moonlight. There are reflectors installed on the square and on the surrounding buildings, but they aren’t working. It was Chirrut who asked to shut them off to cut the costs and turn every penny on the restoration. Baze sighs heavily.

The square is empty, nothing moves and Baze cannot hear anything. Mining should be loud, at least they should feel the ground trembling. There is nothing. Cassian lands him the telescope. “I don’t see anything. No sign of life. They aren’t here.” Baze agrees but surveys around anyway. He shakes his head and points with his thumb behind his back. “We should get inside and check the caves under.”

They are about to go when he feels Bodhi’s hand on his arm. “Look, there.” he points towards the eastern side of the walls. “Somebody is climbing out. There.” Baze looks in the direction of his fingers and after a few moments he can see the slender figure pushing out from a niche that opens high on the wall and jumping down to a halfly crashed balcony about ten meters above the ground. Baze can’t tear his eyes off of the man as he sweeps back his long hair and starts to climb down. It’s not a man.  _ It’s a girl. _ Cassian is shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s Jyn!”

“Let’s go.” It sounds like a snarl not words. Baze rushes down the stairs. All three of them move quietly, so that the sound of their footsteps can’t be heard on the broken cobweb. They dodge out from the light of the streetlamps as they round some blocks to arrive one street above the far side of the square. Jyn bumps against the solid body of Baze when she backs out of the first corner after creping in the closest street. She screams as she turns around, then snaps her palm on her mouth to muffle the noise. “Baze!” she whispers. “You scared the  _ shit _ out of me!”

“Watch your language, young lady! You are already in trouble!” Baze steps closer as a confirmation.

“You are here, so you must have seen the video!” Jyn is still whispering however there is no need, unless it's for the sake of those who sleep in the houses around. “I came here to see if they are working here or not!” The determination draws a thin crease between her eyebrows.

Baze grabs her arm and pulls her closer. “It’s dangerous! You might have got in serious trouble!” Jyn tries to twitch away her arm with a flicker of pain on her face when Baze realises he might squeeze her too hard so he lets her go.

“You don’t have to worry.” she says rubbing the spot on her arm where Baze iron fist held it. “Nobody is here. The Temple is empty!” she says sad and confused.

_ Stupid, brave, fool, reckless little rash.  _ Baze is proud and terrified at the same time.

“You climbed the wall alone, without any ropes, or anybody here to help you! And what if the troopers  _ were _ here and caught you?” snaps Baze, but  not with anger but full of concern. “What did you think?” his last words cracks.

“They are not here!” she charges back with chin high, then she lets it drop to her chest and shrugs. “I know, I didn’t really think it over... completely…” she looks up to Baze. “But dad, I had to  _ do something _ ! I saw the video and prof Îmwe is shot and they want  to make a bomb…” her words slur together and she drops herself in Baze’s open arms. “I’m sorry!” she whispers.

“It’s ok.” Baze runs his shaking fingers on her hair. “Let’s go home!”

Bodhi clears his throat. “You say...khm… you say... there are caves down there?”

“That’s right.” answers him Cassian. “They go deep down and spread out under the city.”

“Perhaps out of the city? Under the desert?” he offers and continues when puzzled faces look back to him. “If they want to exploit those stones...crystals... and they don’t do it in the Temple’s ground...they probably won’t do it in the middle of the city…”

“And?” prompts Cassian impatiently.

“When I was a child…” Cassian lets out an incredulous huff but Bodhi ignores it. “...we sneaked out lots of times to play outside the city walls, at the Hermit Caves of the Sharp Cliff.” A glimpse of understanding starts to spread out on the faces. Baze remembers well to those caves, every young jedhan, especially the adventurous and romantic ones, know those caves very well. “They say some of those caves go deep under the mountain. Perhaps those and these caves are connected...That would be a good place to mine if you want to be invisible.” Bodhi looks around shyly confused by his own discovery.

Jyn unfolds herself from the warm hug of Baze. “You are a genious! Let’s go!”

“No, no, no, no!” holds her Baze back by her T-shirt. “You are not going anywhere but home!”

“Don’t you dare to send me home, Baze! I’m going with you!” Baze expected her even to stomp with her foot but she doesn’t do that just stands there firmly with all the pride of her almost twenty years.

They are on the middle of the street. Whispers of old stories are pouring out from the niches of the houses, shadows of ancestors are gliding above their head. The noise of the still busy city is almost audible in the silence of the Old Town and Cassian steps to Jyn to hold her hand. “Jyn, Mr. Malbus has right. It  _ is _ really very dangerous. You should go home and wait us there.” his voice is kind and caring but resolute.

Baze drinks Jyn’s hums and nods with a sigh. She truly is in love with this boy, he thinks, when Jyn says “All right, Cassian. We meet at home.” They share a quick kiss while Bodhi and Baze looks away and she disappears on the top of the stairs leading toward the main road.

  
  


*************************************

  
  


Baze's clothes are as thirsty to drink up the weak desert dew as the sparse vegetation and the little animals hiding in their delves. The sand swallows the humidity as it reaches the surface but it gathers in tiny drops in his hair and beard and freezes immediately. The  cold of the ground climbed long ago into his skin and bones and there is nothing he can do about it at that moment, just to bear it.

It was immediately clear that they were not alone when a few hours ago they approached the valley where the Hermit Caves opened. They could feel the rumble underfoot before even be able to see anything. When they reached the top and peaked out from the cover of a bunch of rocks the sight was evident. Bodhi was right. The caves are connected.

They lay there side by side and watch as the sharp lamp of the reflectors covers the valley in daylight, casting strange shadows on the surrounding cliffs. There are cars, huge trucks parking and waiting at the entrance. Krennic and the Order has been busy. Baze doesn’t know when the mining started, but the dale has been transformed and he scrambles to find his memories of what it looked like in his childhood. It was wild, intact, mysterious, abandoned. The passage of time was reflected in magical colors on the side of the mountain. They used to guess what the strange shapes that the wind had dug into the rocks over the millennia take after.

Now it is all ruined and wrecked. Fragments and huge pieces of rock lay in helpless crags burying the weak undergrowth under itself. The side of the mountain splits open like the huge mouth of a chimera and metal struts spare out of it like the sharp teeth of the monster. Mining bulldozers appears and disappears in the belly to plow the rock and cut off its precious content.

Bail kept his word, persuaded First Senator Mothma to mobilize the army after Cassian gave their position. When the first rays of the sun paints red the horizon in the edge of the world Baze spots out the first armored car approaching from the city. They share some mute signs and they split to make harmless the sentinels guarding the roads coming from Jedha. It’s almost ridiculously easy. Bodhi uses a small rock to cosh one of them, Cassian kicks out the feet under the other, to grab his gun and slug him, and Baze simply knocks out the third one with a single punch. They crouch down again in a cover to wait until the unit reaches the Sharp Cliff.

Cassian whispers in his phone and answers to the question what Bodhi and Baze can only guess. The caravan stops at the feet of the mountain and armed men climb up and spread out like stray ghosts. They are moving quietly although the noise of the machines suffocates everything. Snipers take their positions and soldiers prepare to attack, a few of them take place just next to them waving to stay put.

Baze’s senses have already been fully prepared, but now he feels the pulsation of the fight in his body, his muscles tense to the coming actions, his fists waits for the motion. At the moment the sound of a helicopter becomes audible the unit starts to advance. By the time the rumbling propeller stirs up the centuries-old dust, soldiers and armored cars push into the valley.

The Order troopers gathers in defensive position, surprised but not head-less and Baze can already hear the first gunfires. A series of shot cuts through the team pushing in from the valley's mouth, but a sniper shoots out the trooper behind the repeating blaster and the others run down the troopers next to the gun.

Baze watches eager but powerless the unfolding battle, the well-trained combat figures and twitches at every well aimed shot of the troopers. His heart pounds in his throat as he thinks on the past years, the  _ wasted _ years, when he pretended not noticing how the First Order gains more and more power, how strongly resistance was needed, how many things he could have done and he did nothing. He did nothing but hiding from the fight, from the truth, from Chirrut and from himself.

A few lost bullets slam in the rocks around them. Cassian gives a silent sign and they climb higher, as the voice of the loudspeaker carries above their heads: “All resistance is futile! You are surrounded!” More troopers run out from the cover of the cliffs, moving forward filling the air with orders and gunfire. They are soon overpowered and the Jedhan soldiers occupy the shattered scene stand by stand under the pasting reflectors of the helicopter.

Baze reaches for a protruding piece of rock when his feet slips on debris. Cold sweat runs down on his back as he thinks about the long, long fall just after a wrong step. Beside Baze, Bodhi clings with trembling limbs and shaky breath. “Give up the fight and put your hands behind your heads.” the words are muffled in the buzz of the propellers and the gunfire. A tank closes in the mouth of the valley and troopers are no longer fighting, just watching as soldiers clear every hiding spot.

Cassian is already at the top staring at the other side of the mountain when Baze and Bodhi finally outcrop. Cassian reaches down to help Bodhi to set his feet than points down to a serpentine among the cliffs. Down there, the sun glints on the case of a fast-moving  sand runner. Cassian passes the telescope to Baze. “It’s Krennic.” he hisses. “He flees.”

“Tell me you have a gun!” Baze presses out the syllables between his teeth. Cassian reaches under his jacket to pull a pistol out of his holster under his pit. Bodhi grabs out his one from the back of his trousers. “I have mine, too.” he says with a small smile.

“You?” asks Cassian form Baze charging the gun.

_ Fuck _ , thinks Baze,  _ these kids are incredible _ . “I’ll get one.” he spats. “You two, climb through the edge over there and get in front of the car beyond that curve.”

“What about you?” asks Bodhi on a shaky, small voice.

“I will stop that  _ bastard _ !” says Baze and he launches himself down the rocks toward the point where he hopes to reach the vehicle. Baze is big and powerful, despite he didn’t have to fight for his life long ago, his muscles still remember how to break the fastest, how to move with speed and purpose.

He vaults down the slope with huge steps and follows from the corner of his eyes as Bodhi and Cassian disappears behind a brink then turns his attention back to the sand runner. It’s faster the he calculated. Still he can reach it. He breaks into a run on the bumpy ground and before the vehicle could take the turn of the road he makes a dash.

In the short seconds when he flies in the air he thinks he misses it but then he reaches out to catch the upper brace of the speed runner and it’s enough to grab the trooper in the front. He clamps tightly his fist on the sleeve of his uniform and when the impulse snaps Baze off the car, he pulls the man with him, out of the driver's seat. The car continues its way, now without direction to disappear behind the curve.

Baze can hear it crash to the rocks while he lands heavy and hard on his back, feeling the ground stab back at him, sending pain through his spine and hipbone. There was a time when adrenaline would cut the edges of any discomfort, but those times are gone. He pushes himself up with a loud and angry groan to search for the trooper in a hope that Bodhi and Cassian could make it and they are on the other side of the road.

The trooper gets on his feet and reaches for his gun when Baze throws himself on him, He can’t catch a good hold, his hand slips and they start to wrestle. The other one is as big and strong as Baze with good skills of hand to hand, sending satisfaction in Baze’s muscles craving for a fight.

A gunshot is heard and somebody cries out in pain. Baze uses the other’s distraction and strikes out to land his fist in his face, than ducks from a punch. As he straightens up he twitches the gun out of the troopers hand. The other manages a hard kick. Baze is rolling to the side, but the booted foot follows and connects with his ribs. He exhales the hurt and drags in cold air. Before the boot could strike down again, Baze’s fingers graze something cold and solid. The gun. He curves his finger around it and points to the trooper. “Stop!” he shouts and the other goes still.

He stands up and forces the man to go forward eager to see if the others have succeeded or not. Baze holds back his breathe but by the time he gets to the speed runner turned upside down, it’s over. Krennic is kneeling in the ground with another trooper, hands above their head, the third is on the ground bleeding. Bodhi is pointing his gun at them and Cassian is doing the same while calling the soldiers to come.

Baze isn’t sure what to think, feel or say. With the blood still pumping behind his eyes he just can’t believe it’s over. And yet...He stares down at Krennic and uses the energy accumulated in his body to hold back himself, not to go for him to tear him apart. Quicker than he thought a Hummy arrives, soldiers jump out of it shouting commands and putting in cuffs Krennic and the two other man in a split of a second. It is really over.

  
  


****************************************************

  
  


When Beze enters the room Chirrut is asleep half seated on the pillows. The surging of the machines blend with the noise of the city and with the quiet fumbling of the soldiers on the other side of the door. Baze pulls the small armchair closer to the bed and sits down. It was a long day. They all went back to an army base where Bail and Senator Mothma was awaiting them. A soldier recorded his testimony, than he took a quick shower and Cassian found him a T-shirt to replace his own which was torn. His hair is still wet in the bun.

As he is sitting there, watching Chirrut, the events of the past day spread out slowly in his bones, his muscles relax, though his rib is pounding from the fall. He listens to Chirrut’s breathing which is a bit heaving. His hands quiver sometimes, perhaps he has a troubled dream. Baze hopes he has not, but if he has, it’s alright now. It’s only a dream.

Yesterday Chirrut sent him away. It's been a decade since yesterday, the world has turned, not around but upside-down. Yesterday he sent him away, and he left, but today he will not leave. He will never leave again. Chirrut’s lashes flutter and he awakens snuffling, touching his chest as all his pains and aches rise to his consciousness. He lets out a painful sigh and Baze is right next to him. “Chirrut!”

Chirrut quivers because Baze catches him completely off guard and lets out a second, more painful little sound. “Baze!” 

“Are you in pain? Shall I call someone?” Baze asks full of concern.

“No, it’s ok.” answers Chirrut. His voice is still weak. “A nurse comes every two hour with the painkiller. Certainly the time hasn’t passed yet.”

Baze looks around searching for something that can help, but there is nothing in the room except a jug of water. “Would you like some water?” he asks. Chirrut’s breathing is labored even if it’s more calm than in his sleep. One of his palm still presses his chest over the bandage. He swallows hard then nods, trying to push himself up on one elbow.

“Hey, let me help!” Baze holds him as he drinks slowly one or two sip then helps him to lean back on the pillows. Baze stands next to him, while he is panting with closed eyes, as if it was already too much effort. “Baze…” his voice is hoarse and dry. “Do you remember when we thought we had all the time in the world?” Baze furrows his brows. He didn’t know Chirrut was so sentimental. Perhaps the drugs. “I am such a fool. I ruined everything!” he continues. “You were right. I wanted it so much, I put everything at risk, I put everyone in danger.”

“Don’t talk, Chiry!” Baze tries to sooth him.

“No, Baze. I have to tell you... _ Nothing _ can be as important to put in danger the life of my loved ones. Nothing.” he gasps for air. “I...was really such a fool...can you forgive me?” Finally he opens his eyes turning toward Baze and turns his palm up shyly as if it was some kind of a question. Baze doesn’t hesitate to take his hand in his own. He sits on the bed and rubs his cheek against the back of Chirrut’s hand to press his lips against it for a long moment. Chirrut closes again his eyes and lets out a shaky but relieved sigh. Baze can’t answer as he is fighting back his tears. Of course, Chirrut is not aware what has happened in the last twenty-four hours.

“There is nothing to forgive. You did the right thing.” Baze unfolds the story of the day piece by piece while Chirrut makes surprised sounds and his long and slim fingers curl tighter and tighter around Baze hand. “You see, Chiry? It is me who was fool and  _ blind _ , not you. Without you the First Order couldn’t have been stopped.” He lets out a long exhale through his nose, gazing at the ground. “ And me… I promised you to be at your side and I’ve failed you. Again.”

Chirrut turns his palm to trace his face with delicate fingers then touches his thumb to the corner of Baze’s mouth. “You never faile me. How could you ever fail me if everything as is the Force wills it? And the Force guided us back to each other!” A tear spills down his cheek and Baze reaches out before he thinks about it, thumbing it away. Chirrut’s breath catches and he turns his face against Baze’s palm.

“The Force again? You fool!” says Baze on a shaky voice. “I love you! What do you say? You are my only love! Huh?” He runs his fingers in Chirrut’s hair to cradle his face, which is warm, even a little bit hot against his skin. “Perhaps we don’t have all the time in the world now, but we’ve got a good thirty years ahead of us... Maybe forty... if we eat right and exercise, they say.” Baze huffs a small laugh.

“Wait, what? Eat right and exercise?” Chirrut laughs quietly what turns into a cough. “Oh, no, that hurts... if I laugh.”

“Uhm, I’m sorry.” he peppers with small kisses Chirrut’s fingers and palm, than run his thumb on his cheek. “So, what do you say?”

Chirrut smoothes his hand on his cheek. “I love you, of course I do. How can I not?” and sighs. “Just get me out of here and I’ll show you!”

Baze sits closer and bends down in an awkward position holding both hands to kiss Chirrut’s lips sweetly. Chirrut kisses back weakly but with devotion.When they part Baze touches their forehead together. His back is aching and his neck is sore from this position, but he couldn’t care less. There’s still a lots of things they have to figure out, but side by side it doesn’t seem so insurmountable. He gathers Chirrut a little bit closer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned. I add a chapter for the Epilogue to close it down nicccccce.  
> :-)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We arrived at the very end.  
> Thank you for all your kudos and comments, especially to NewLeeland. Your continuous comments were a great support!  
> It means a lot to me.

_ Five years later _

 

This is one of the rare mornings when Baze wakes up earlier than Chirrut who usually gets up with the first rays. But not today. The sun is high as Baze peaks out the window covering the entire wall, but there is no rush. It’s sunday, they have the whole day if they want it. He doesn’t move much to not to disturb Chirrut, just smiles down on his hair and turns his eyes toward the garden of their house.

The magnolia tree is in full blossom. They planted it together on their first day in the house. Half of the furnitures were only on their way, the boxes were intact, they didn’t find the plates and they should have done a little cleaning. Instead they were planting the tree and sitting in its shadow the whole day long speaking nonsenses and about the future. They were young again.

To tell the truth he feels still young especially when they are like this, Chirrut sleeping curled up like a cat on the top of his tummy, head on his chest. Baze can feel his steady heartbeat on his skin, the small puffs of air leaving his nostrils and the drooling making wet his pajama shirt.

With a little sigh Chirrut’s hand sneaks down to the front of Baze’s briefs and he feels his laughter against his chest. “Why are you awake, Baze?” his voice is still syrupy with sleep.

“I’m enjoying the view!” muses Baze and catches Chirrut wandering hand to make it rest on his chest.

“Do you?” Chirrut plants his chin next to his hand to preen with his smile.

“Yes. This pink blossom of the magnolia tree is wonderful.” teases him Baze. Chirrut let’s out a small huff and smacks playfully his belly but turns his head toward the garden.

“Isn’t it? I can smell it every evening, after sunset. Every time it reminds me of how lucky I am. With you.”

Baze exhales. “I am the lucky one.” He rolls Chirrut down on his side, flat on his back to lean above him and give a lazy, morning kiss.

When they part Chirrut reaches up to touch the smile in the corner of his mouth. His focus is on Baze as if he wants to see him. “You are beautiful.” he says simply.

Baze groans and traces the two starbird scarred on Chirrut’s arm. “You can’t see me.” he says bluntly.

“I’ve always seen you.” Chirrut whispers in his mouth melting the last word into another kiss.

“You are my only love!” Baze whispers back and stops. He wanted to tease him but only these words came to his mouth. He doesn’t mind at all.

Chirrut pauses too, his face turns deadly serious as he replies “As you are mine, my only love.” and kisses him clumsily, first on his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth. Baze curls his fingers under his nape to guide him, to kiss his mouth more fully.

They part with a soft sound and Baze rises to one elbow to run his hand down on Chirrut’s chest, to trace the two healed scar. Suddenly his throat feels thick, making impossible to breath and he has to drag Chirrut closer. “Promise me you will never walk in front of a gun again!”

Chirrut laughs softly. “I can definitely promise that.”

“Promise me you never fight the Order's soldiers again.”

“I can promise that, too.” he still laughs.

“Promise you will never get involved in any kind of dicey espionage again!”

Chirrut laughs now with open mouth, full of teeth and chin tilted up. “I can also promise that! Never again!”

Baze pulls him even closer. It’s not enough. He desperately needs a reassurance for the rest of their lives. While the whole galaxy is moving around them in constant movement he needs Chirrut to be the focal point. “Promise that if we grow really, really old and the time comes... you won’t go without me!”

Chirrut goes very still, smile slowly fading away from his lips.”Love…” he rises a hand to feel Baze’s face, first his forehead, his eyes and his mouth turned into a thin line waiting for the answer, the sentence. “...how could I promise that?” Baze buries his head under his chin and Chirrut cradles his head. “I can only promise, if we grow really old and it’s me who has to go first, I will be waiting for you. And if you seek for me, you will find me!”

Baze is not able to speak, instead he traces a wet kiss line on his throat, his chin, his cheek. When he can speak again he presses their lips together. “Marry me, Chirrut!”

Chirrut returns the kiss without a word. He doesn’t answer. “What do you think of getting married?” prompts Baze. Chirrut wriggles himself away a bit and furrows his brows. A lick of fear curls up on Baze’s spine. “You...it was a stupid idea...just forget it.” Baze whispers barely audible.

“It’s not that…” starts Chirrut hesitantly. “...I just thought that we are  _ already  _ married…” Baze lets out an incredulous groan. “Don’t you remember that day at the Senate Hall...when we made our wows...and you pulled the ring on my finger?” he rises his hand triumphantly and the ring discreetly glows in the morning light.

Baze grabs his hand and runs his finger on the ring to pepper with small kisses. “I remember, I know…” he sighs. “Just marry me once again! Would you?”

“There is no need, Baze. I am yours. I’ve been always yours.” Slowly, very slowly he traces Baze’s lips with his own then slides his tongue between them.

Baze kisses him back and presses hot points into his skin with his mouth lapping up the taste. Chirrut moans and sucks on Baze’s fingers when he reaches up to slip them into Chirrut’s mouth. With the other hand he cups Chirrut through his boxer. When he gives a little squeeze Chirrut bucks against him gasping. He reaches down with one hand to open Baze’s thighs to settle one leg between his. Baze obeys but continues to rub against Chirrut’s boxer sliding lower and lower.

Chirrut moans and grabs his brief pushing it down, tugging at Baze’s shirt and pajama pants with the other hand until they are both naked, skin to skin, sweating and panting, breathing into each other’s mouths.

Chirrut has always had a bad sense of rhythm so Baze opens his palm on his back and the other one grips his ass coordinating his desperate rolls into something rhythmic. Chirrut buries his face in his neck nipping and sucking the skin until it all turns into a long, deep moan. Baze holds him while he is trembling against his body and Baze follows him suit as Chirrut runs his shaky fingers along his cock.

A bit later Chirrut moves to rest on his shoulder, in the hollow where his head fits perfectly, to smooth away the last wrinkles on his forehead with a feather light touch. “It’s ok? Are you ok?”

“Hmmpff, yes.” Baze hums. “And you? Are you happy?”

“I am. I have you!” The pink blossom of the magnolia tree nod cheerfully in the garden of the house. Their house.

  
  


***************************

 

They visited at least a half dozen before this one. They were whether too big, too small, too expensive or simply not good. This one seemed to be in a good condition but nothing special at all. The location was good, close to both the Old Town and the city center, but in a green area. It was sunlit with lots of open spaces, without doors and doorsteps. A huge kitchen and dining area to receive family and friends, a nice room opening to the garden, one big bedroom on the second floor and one smaller, just in case.

Baze wasn’t convinced. Chirrut dragged him by his wrist and pulled him out in the middle of the garden to face the house ignoring the estate-agent talking about the wooden floor. “Look!” he said. “Do you see?”

Baze looked at the house, searching, but he didn’t see anything. “I see the house?” he asked vacuously.

“Do you know what I see?” smiled Chirrut and stepped closer to touch their sides together. When Baze hummed he continued. “I see our future.” and turned to Baze. “Do you see it, too?”

Baze looked up again and he suddenly heard the laughter pouring out the windows, he saw the smoke of the sunday dinners rising up from the chimney and he saw grill the parties and lazy, summer afternoons in the garden. This was the house and they were going to buy it. It still felt like yesterday when they were sitting at Baze’s living room, a few month after Chirrut came out of the hospital, talking about moving together. Still. He bent down to put a small kiss on the top of Chirrut’s nose. “Yes, I see it!” and he wiped away the smile with a kiss. 

  
  


********************************

  
  


The little family dinner was really good. Baze smiled to himself on the word ‘little’. You couldn’t really call it little with there is ten people around the table. It was Bail and Breha who arrived first with their daughter, Leia, and his twin brother, Luke, who studied off planet and just came home for the break. Jyn came of course with Cassian bit later, both from work. Cassian from the Jedhan military base where he trained the greenhorns and Jyn from her own office, which was Jedha’s number one event management company.

Bodhi and Galen arrived together. Galen managed to clear himself from the charges and handed over his entire research material from kyber crystals to the university. Bodhi proved himself running the garage and they live happily and freely together. They tumbled in by the middle of the dinner, apologising, but their places were kept and the rice balls were still warm.

Baze prepared Chirrut’s favourite to make him eat as he still had a small appetite. His wounds healed slowly, slower than his patience could bare it. Although his skin regained its golden glow and his grin was wider than his face could hold again, he was thin and got tired soon. Unlike  Baze who was boarder and more hefty as before.

After they arrested Krennic and the investigation started in the case of the First Order the Senate offered him a commission in the army. He rejected. He didn’t want to be a soldier anymore. Cassian used his position to put some pressure and he was offered to be the hand to hand combat specialist of the Jedhan army. First time he arrived to the training field he was in shame as he saw the full of strength, brawny youth compared to the cushion covering his muscles.

He started to run and do some exercises by himself. That with the daily training brought its effect and in a few month the lines of his muscles were firm under his skin. It felt good. Not only the physical activity but the way those young men looked at him and spoke behind his back calling him ‘That Baze Malbus’ with respect and awe. Like he was a hero. But this, he put on a hidden shelf on the back of his mind and confessed only to Chirrut in a private moment. Chirrut didn’t laugh. Instead he cupped his face and said. “You deserve it. You fought for the freedom of Jedha, was there when the Empire than the First Order was defeated. You  _ are  _ a hero.”

That evening, after the  _ big _ family dinner, Chirrut wasn’t at all that serious. He nestled himself in the middle of the couch in his jeans and his shirt with those terrible red and green flowers on it, a small glass of wine in his hand. That was something new. Chirrut had never drank before, but now it was a medical proposal, an occasionally glass for the health. Chirrut grew to like it and Baze enjoyed the benefit of its effect.

He admired for a few seconds the lovely view, Chirrut on his coach with a glass of wine before he sat next to him and pulled him closer. “What were you doing upstairs?” he asked.

Chirrut let out a sigh and pouted his lips. “I definitely forget to bring my pajama. And toothbrush. I don’t know who could I.” he sipped from the glass.

“Why don’t you keep some of your stuff here?” offered Baze. “We have plenty of room, especially Jyn spends her evenings mostly at Cassian’s place. You could even…” He stopped and looked in Chirrut’s eye even he couldn’t return it.

Chirrut wriggled and made a tipsy grin. “I could even?” he rubbed his nose against his throat.

Baze quickly gobbled the words before he started to think about them before the idea could flee away like a terrified bird. “You could even move here. If you want to.”

Chirrut turned his face toward the ceiling resting his head on Baze’s bicep. “For good?”

“For good.” Baze answered on a low voice.

“You know, to ask this question, you didn’t have to besot me.” he grinned again on nothing special. “I would like it very much.”

The dirty dishes were on the kitchen counter, the lights were on everywhere but they didn’t mind it. They had each other, they had time.

 

 

***********************************

 

The Pilgrim square is packed with people staring on the huge screen hanged up around the buildings and pushing to get closer. They are chatting, greeting familiar faces, make children sit up on the shoulders. Sellers moving among them offering sugar nuts, sand cookie and jumbli juice. It’s even more crowded inside. The Big Hall is dressed in the colours of Jedha, with the flags of the Temple of the Whills prepared for the flow of people taking every possible spot of ground.

They are standing on the first line not far from the small area preserved for the ceremony to come. Baze body is filled with electricity. His joy comes from the celebration, the happiness around him, seeing people smiling. Seeing Chirrut’s happiness, seeing Chirrut smiling.

This is the first time prayers will be conducted for centuries, maybe for thousands of years. He can literally feel Chirrut’s excitement. First he is radiating like a sun and he is clinging in Baze’s arm as strongly that it hurts, but Baze lets him do it anyway. For this occasion Chirrut wears a very simple black suit, same as Baze, and he can’t tear his eyes off of him.

Suddenly the sea of faithful opens and the Masters of the Temple float through in between, wearing black and red. The excited clamor slowly fades away first inside the walls, than outside as the Masters take their places. They are waiting. A few more minutes.

The discovery came a few months after the first ceremony was set for the day of the eclipse of their two moons. The constantly up-coming donations made it easier to reveal and secure the Big Hall in the last years. Jedha could finally breath as the pressure of the First Order, heavily weighed on the city, disappeared. The citizens knew exactly who to be thankful. Chirrut would say to the Force but Baze, like most of the jedhans, had another opinion.

On that day the restorator team cleared the debris from one of the high towers and found an oculus which, until then, was covered by a collapsed piece of roof. They didn’t know why the old masters built it until the sun arrived in the right position. Thousands and thousands of faithful will witness this phenomenon today.

Souls are wrapped in solemn silence, faces are covered with devotion, eyes are filled with faith. They are waiting for the sun. The shiny planet floats majestically in the sky and slowly reaches the edge of the tower. Its rays, breaking in the oculus, are projected on the crystals hidden high up in the walls of the Temple. The crystals reflect and scatter the rays of the sun, exposing the entire interior with a sparkling, waving kyber-blue play of light. The bells start to toll.

Chirrut lets out a shuddering sigh next to Baze and he turns to Chirrut. The tears on his face sparkle like the crystals. “Don’t cry, dear one! It’s a happy moment!”

Chirrut smiles at him through his tears. “I am happy, Baze! I am happy!”

As the sound of the bells die away, the chants of the Masters rise high and the crowd follows suit.

 

_ I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.  _

_ And I fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it. _

  
  
  
  


THE END MY FRIENDS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Check my other fics as well and find me on tumblr.


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